tRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  CRUZ 


PS 


THEIR  WEDDING  JOURNEY 

BY  WILLIAM    DEAN    HOWELLS 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

CLIFFORD  CARLETON 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 


M  DCCC  xcix 


Copyright,  1871  and  1888, 
BY  W.  D.  HOWELLS. 

Copyright,  1894, 
BY  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 


CONTENTS 


I.  THE  OUTSET      .        -.          .       ,  •'•.-.         .  .          .           I 

ii.  A  MIDSUMMER-DAY'S  DREAM       .        .  ,         42 

III.  THE   NIGHT   BOAT      .           .           .          >  .           •        69 

IV.  A   DAY'S   RAILROADING        ...          •  •             99 
V.  THE   ENCHANTED   CITY,  AND    BEYOND  .           .119 

VI.  NIAGARA          ...          .          .          •  V          I49 

VII.  DOWN   THE   ST.  LAWRENCE         .           ,  .           .      2l6 

VIII.  THE   SENTIMENT   OF    MONTREAL  .           •  .           243 

IX.  QUEBEC      ..         .           ...           .'         •  •           •      286 

X.  HOMEWARD   AND   HOME           .           .           •  .           347 

XI.  NIAGARA   REVISITED,   TWELVE   YEARS  AFTER 

THEIR   WEDDING   JOURNEY      .           .  .           .361 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"  We  shall  not  strike  the  public  as  bridal,  shall  we  ?  "       3 

Waiting  at  the  Depot         .                  ....  7 

"  Don't  go  by  the  boat !"    .         .        .        .        .  .10 

Running  for  the  Train     .         .         .         .    .     ....  15 

A  Night  Scene    .         *         .         .        .        .        .  .     23 

Early  Morning          .         .                  ...         .  25 

Trinity  Churchyard     .         .         .         „         .         --35 

In  Leonard's  Office .         .         .         .         .        .        .  43 

Talking  their  Husbands  over      .         ....     47 

A  Hot  Sidewalk .    .         .56 

Cool,  Dark  Parlors      .         .        .         .        .         .  -59 

"  I  can't  stand  this  much  longer"   .         .         .        .  63 

Your  own  Stateroom   .         .         .         .                  .  .70 

A  Sheltered  Space  aft  of  the  Saloon       ...  71 

Arriving  Passengers    .         .         .         ...  '74 

From  the  Deck        .....         .         .        ,        .  76 

The  Poorly  Dressed  Young  Man        .         .        .  .84 

His  Midnight  Vigil  .         .         .         ....  89 

Discussing  the  Accident     .      ...        .         .  -93 

Watching  for  the  Morning       ....         .         .  97 

A  Glimpse  of  the  Canal       ....        .  .  103 

A  Hurried  Good-by         .        .        .  .      .        .     '   .  107 

The  Softening  Hat      .        .        .        ,        .        .  .  109 

In  the  Fashion         .        .        .      .  »        .        .        .  no 

Buying  cheap       .         .        .        .        .        .        .  .  in 

Selling  dear      .         .        .        ....        .  in 

Scraping  Acquaintance       .        .        .        .        .  .112 


vi  List  of  Illustrations 

Imaginary  Solitude 113 

"  Oh,  disgusting !"       .         .        .         .         .  .         .114 

Like  Verona     .         .  >    .         .        .         .         .  .       120 

The  Condescending  Hotel  Clerk         .         .  .         .121 

Evidences  of  Luxury  so  far  from  Boston        .  .       125 

A  Swarm  of  Servants .         .        .         .        .  .         .127 

The  Beacon  Street  of  Rochester     ....  .       129 

"  I  wish  it  was  we  "      .         .         .  :      .         .  .         .  133 

The  Genesee  Falls  .         .         ..    -.         .         .  .       137 

The  Unsparing  Train-boy  .         .         .        .  .         .145 

The  Arrival      .         .         .         .     -  .        .        .  .       150 

At  the  Foot  of  the  Falls      .        .         .         .  .         .  155 

In  the  Grand  Parlor         .         .         .         .         .  .       163 

The  Breakfast-Room  Ordeal       .    •    .        .  .         .171 

A  Shady  Seat  on  the  Island   •.   '     .       \        ..  .       177 

Public  Love-Making    .         .        .         .        .    •  .         .  184 

The  Frisky  Elderly  Gentleman        .         .         .  .       191 

The  Empty  Dining-Room  .         * .       .         .  ,         .   195 

Buying  the  Little  Keepsake     .        .        .         .  .       203 

The  Rapids.        »"      .         .        .        .        .  -.         .209 

The  Pilot         .         .         .     •    v        .        .        .  ,      216 

Securing  their  Stateroom  Keys  .        .        .  .         .217 

A  Cosy  Corner         ...         .         .         .  .       219 

Among  the  Thousand  Islands     .         .        .  .         .  225 

The  Nobleman        ....        .  '      .        .        .  .       233 

In  the  Pilot  House      ...        .        .  .         .  237 

The  Long  Sault  Rapids  .'     , • .         .        .         .  .       239 

Victoria  Bridge  .        .,        .         .        .         .  ,         .  242 

Bonsecours  Market.         .                 ...  .       245 

The  Gray  Nuns  .         .        .        .         .         ...  .253 

The  First  Serious  Dispute       ...        .  .       261 

Repenting    .         .         .         ....         .  .         .  263 

A  Slender  Young  Priest  appeared  ....       268 

Shopping  in  Montreal .......  275 


List  of  Illustrations  vii 

The  Nelson  Monument   .         .  •       .        .        .  280 

An  Old  Street      ...         ,         ...  .  287 

The  Lower  Town    ...        .        .        .        .  289 

The  Wolfe  Monument         .         .         .         .         .  296 

Giving  the  Rose       .         .        .        .         .         .        .  303 

The  Lively  Company  .         .         ...         .  .  305 

A  Quaint  Street 310 

Near  Durham  Terrace        ,         .        .        .       -.  .311 

An  Old  Gateway      .        .  .      .        .;        .        .  315 

The  Village  Street      .         ......  320 

Montmorenci    .        .         .         .        .        .        .         .  325 

On  Durham  Terrace   .         .        .   :     .    -.    .,       .  .  330 

The  Mermaid  ...        .         .        .         .        .  337 

A  Question  of  Duty     .        .         .         .         ....  348 

The  Grecian  Portico        .         .         .        .         .       /•«  353 

Nearing  Home     .         .         .                 .     r1 .        .  .  355 

Home  Again    .        .        .        .         .         .        .        .  357 

Beginning  the  Second  Journey    .         .        ,        ,  .  365 

The  Same  Clerk       .         .         .         .        ,        .'       .  371 

The  Parapet        .         .        .        .        .        . v  •    .  .  377 

Cutting  his  Initials  .         .         .         .     •    .         .         .  386 

Out  of  Season      .        .  v     .        ....  .  389 

"  Where  are  the  brides  ?"        .        .        .        .,      .  391 

Tail-piece     .         .         .        .        8        .        ...  399 


THEIR   WEDDING  JOURNEY 
I 

THE    OUTSET 

fT^HEY  first  met  in  Boston,  but  the  match 
JL  was  made  in  Europe,  where  they  afterwards 
saw  each  other ;  whither,  indeed,  he  followed 
her  ;  and  there  the  match  was  also  broken  off. 
Why  it  was  broken  off,  and  why  it  was  renewed 
after  a  lapse  of  years,  is  part  of  quite  a  long  love- 
story,  which  I  do  not  think  myself  qualified  to 
rehearse,  distrusting  my  fitness  for  a  sustained  or 
involved  narration  ;  though  I  am  persuaded  that 
a  skillful  romancer  could  turn  the  courtship  of 
Basil  and  Isabel  March  to  excellent  account. 
Fortunately  for  me,  however,  in  attempting  to 
tell  the  reader  of  the  wedding  journey  of  a  newly 
married  couple,  no  longer  very  young,  to  be  sure, 
but  still  fresh  in  the  light  of  their  love,  I  shall 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  talk  of  some  ordinary 
traits  of  American  life  as  these  appeared  to 
them,  to  speak  a  little  of  well-known  and  easily 
accessible  places,  to  present  now  a  bit  of  land- 
scape and  now  a  sketch  of  character. 


Their  Wedding  Joiirney 


They  had  agreed  to  make  their  wedding  jour- 
ney in  the  simplest  and  quietest  way,  and  as  it  did 
not  take  place  at  once  after  their  marriage,  but 
some  weeks  later,  it  had  all  the  desired  charm  of 
privacy  from  the  outset. 

"  How  much  better,"  said  Isabel,  "  to  go  now, 
when  nobody  cares  whether  you  go  or  stay,  than 
to  have  started  off  upon  a  wretched  wedding 
breakfast,  all  tears  and  trousseau,  and  had  people 
wanting  to  see  you  aboard  the  cars.  Now  there 
will  not  be  a  suspicion  of  honey-moonshine  about 
us  ;  we  shall  go  just  like  anybody  else,  —  with  a 
difference,  dear,  with  a  difference  !  "  and  she  took 
Basil's  cheeks  between  her  hands.  In  order  to 
do  this,  she  had  to  run  round  the  table  ;  for  they 
were  at  dinner,  and  Isabel's  aunt,  with  whom  they 
had  begun  married  life,  sat  substantial  between 
them.  It  was  rather  a  girlish  thing  for  Isabel, 
and  she  added,  with  a  conscious  blush,  "  We  are 
past  our  first  youth,  you  know ;  and  we  shall  not 
strike  the  public  as  bridal,  shall  we  ?  My  one 
horror  in  life  is  an  evident  bride." 

Basil  looked  at  her  fondly,  as  if  he  did  not 
think  her  at  all  too  old  to  be  taken  for  a  bride ; 
and  for  my  part  I  do  not  object  to  a  woman's 
being  of  Isabel's  age,  if  she  is  of  a  good  heart 
and  temper.  Life  must  have  been  very  unkind 
to  her  if  at  that  age  she  have  not  won  more  than 
she  has  lost.  It  seemed  to  Basil  that  his  wife 


"  We  shall  not  strike  the  fziblic  as  bridal,  shall  we  ?  " 


The  Outset 


was  quite  as  fair  as  when  they  met  first,  eight 
years  before ;  but  he  could  not  help  recurring 
with  an  inextinguishable  regret  to  the  long  in- 
terval of  their  broken  engagement,  which  but 
for  that  fatality  they  might  have  spent  together, 
he  imagined,  in  just  such  rapture  as  this.  The 
regret  always  haunted  him,  more  or  less  ;  it  was 
part  of  his  love ;  the  loss  accounted  irreparable 
really  enriched  the  final  gain. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said  presently,  with  as 
much  gravity  as  a  man  can  whose  cheeks  are 
clasped  between  a  lady's  hands,  "you  don't  begin 
very  well  for  a  bride  who  wishes  to  keep  her 
secret.  If  you  behave  in  this  way,  they  will  put 
us  into  the  '  bridal  chambers  '  at  all  the  hotels. 
And  the  cars  —  they  're  beginning  to  have  them 
on  the  palace-cars." 

Just  then  a  shadow  fell  into  the  room. 

"Wasn't  that  thunder,  Isabel?"  asked  her 
aunt,  who  had  been  contentedly  surveying  the 
tender  spectacle  before  her.  "  Oh  dear !  you  '11 
never  be  able  to  go  by  the  boat  to-night,  if  it 
storms.  It 's  actually  raining  now  !  " 

In  fact,  it  was  the  beginning  of  that  terrible 
storm  of  June,  1870.  All  in  a  moment,  out  of 
the  hot  sunshine  of  the  day  it  burst  upon  us  be- 
fore we  quite  knew  that  it  threatened,  even  be- 
fore we  had  fairly  noticed  the  clouds,  and  it  went 
on  from  passion  to  passion  with  an  inexhaustible 


TJieir  Wedding  Journey 


violence.  In  the  square  upon  which  our  friends 
looked  out  of  their  dining-room  windows  the 
trees  whitened  in  the  gusts,  and  darkened  in  the 
driving  floods  of  the  rainfall,  and  in  some  par- 
oxysms of  the  tempest  bent  themselves  in  des- 
perate submission,  and  then  with  a  great  shudder 
rent  away  whole  branches  and  flung  them  far  off 
upon  the  ground.  Hail  mingled  with  the  rain, 
and  now  the  few  umbrellas  that  had  braved  the 
storm  vanished,  and  the  hurtling  ice  crackled 
upon  the  pavement,  where  the  lightning  played 
like  flames  burning  from  the  earth,  while  the 
thunder  roared  overhead  without  ceasing.  There 
was  something  splendidly  theatrical  about  it  all ; 
and  when  a  street-car,  laden  to  the  last  inch  of 
its  capacity,  came  by,  with  horses  that  pranced 
and  leaped  under  the  stinging  blows  of  the  hail- 
stones, our  friends  felt  as  if  it  were  an  effective 
and  very  naturalistic  bit  of  pantomime  contrived 
for  their  admiration.  Yet  as  to  themselves  they 
were  very  sensible  of  a  potent  reality  in  the  affair, 
and  at  intervals  during  the  storm  they  debated 
about  going  at  all  that  day,  and  decided  to  go  and 
not  to  go,  according  to  the  changing  complexion 
of  the  elements.  Basil  had  said  that  as  this  was 
their  first  journey  together  in  America,  he  wished 
to  give  it  at  the  beginning  as  pungent  a  national 
character  as  possible,  and  that  as  he  could  im- 
agine nothing  more  peculiarly  American  than  a 


Waiting  at  the  De-bot 


The  Outset 


voyage  to  New  York  by  a  Fall  River  boat,  they 
ought  to  take  that  route  thither.  So  much  up- 
holstery, so  much  music,  such  variety  of  company, 
he  understood,  could  not  be  got  in  any  other 
way,  and  it  might  be  that  they  would  even  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  inventor  of  the  combination,  who 
represented  the  very  excess  and  extremity  of  a 
certain  kind  of  Americanism.  Isabel  had  eager- 
ly consented ;  but  these  aesthetic  motives  were 
paralyzed  for  her  by  the  thought  of  passing  Point 
Judith  in  a  storm,  and  she  descended  from  her 
high  intents  first  to  the  Inside  Boats,  without  the 
magnificence  and  the  orchestra,  and  then  to  the 
idea  of  going  by  land  in  a  sleeping-car.  Having 
comfortably  accomplished  this  feat,  she  treated 
Basil's  consent  as  a  matter  of  course,  not  because 
she  did  not  regard  him,  but  because  as  a  woman 
she  could  not  conceive  of  the  steps  to  her  con- 
clusion as  unknown  to  him,  and  always  treated 
her  own  decisions  as  the  product  of  their  com- 
mon reasoning.  But  her  husband  held  out  for 
the  boat,  and  insisted  that  if  the  storm  fell 
before  seven  o'clock,  they  could  reach  it  at  New- 
port by  the  last  express  ;  and  it  was  this  obsti- 
nacy that,  in  proof  of  Isabel's  wisdom,  obliged 
them  to  wait  two  hours  in  the  station  before 
going  by  the  land  route.  The  storm  abated  at 
five  o'clock,  and  though  the  rain  continued,  it 
seemed  well  by  a  quarter  of  seven  to  set  out  for 


10 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


the  Old  Colony  Depot,  in  sight  of  which  a  sud- 
den and  vivid  flash  of  lightning  caused  Isabel  to 
seize  her  husband's  arm,  and  to  implore  him,  "  Oh, 
don't  go  by  the  boat !  "  On  this,  Basil  had  the 
incredible  weakness  to 
yield  ;  and  bade  the  driver 
take  them  to  the  Worces- 
ter Depot.  It  was  the  first 
swerving  from  the  ideal  in 
their  wedding  journey,  but 
it  was  by  no  means  the 
last;  though  it  must  be 
confessed  that  it  was  early 
to  begin. 

They  both  felt  more 
tranquil  when  they  were 
irretrievably  committed  by 
the  purchase  of  their 
tickets,  and  when  they  sat 

down  in  the  waiting-room  of  the  station,  with 
all  the  time  between  seven  and  nine  o'clock 
before  them.  Basil  would  have  eked  out  the 
business  of  checking  the  trunks  into  an  affair 
of  some  length,  but  the  baggage-master  did  his 
duty  with  pitiless  celerity  ;  and  so  Basil,  in  the 
mere  excess  of  his  disoccupation,  bought  an  ac- 
cident insurance  ticket.  This  employed  him 
half  a  minute,  and  then  he  gave  up  the  unequal 
contest,  and  went  and  took  his  place  beside 


"Don't  go  by  the  boat !  " 


77ie  Outset  n 


Isabel,  who  sat  prettily  wrapped  in  her  shawl, 
perfectly  content. 

"  Is  n't  it  charming,"  she  said  gayly,  "  having 
to  wait  so  long  ?  It  puts  me  in  mind  of  some 
of  those  other  journeys  we  took  together.  But 
I  can't  think  of  those  times  with  any  patience, 
when  we  might  really  have  had  each  other,  and 
did  n't  !  Do  you  remember  how  long  we  had  to 
wait  at  Chambery  ?  and  the  numbers  of  military 
gentlemen  that  waited  too,  with  their  little 
waists,  and  their  kisses  when  they  met  ?  and 
that  poor  married  military  gentleman,  with  the 
plain  wife  and  the  two  children,  and  a  tarnished 
uniform  ?  He  seemed  to  be  somehow  in  mis- 
fortune, and  his  mustache  hung  down  in  such  a 
spiritless  way,  while  all  the  other  military  mus- 
taches about  curled  and  bristled  with  so  much 
boldness.  I  think  salles  d'attente  everywhere 
are  delightful,  and  there  is  such  a  community 
of  interest  in  them  all,  that  when  I  come  here 
only  to  go  out  to  Brookline,  I  feel  myself  a 
traveler  once  more,  —  a  blessed  stranger  in  a 
strange  land.  Oh  dear,  Basil,  those  were  happy 
times  after  all,  when  we  might  have  had  each 
other  and  did  n't !  And  now  we  're  the  more 
precious  for  having  been  so  long  lost." 

She  drew  closer  and  closer  to  him,  and 
looked  at  him  in  a  way  that  threatened  betrayal 
of  her  bridal  character. 


12  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  Isabel,  you  will  be  having  your  head  on  my 
shoulder,  next,"  said  he. 

"Never!"  she  answered  fiercely,  recovering 
her  distance  with  a  start.  "  But,  dearest,  if  you 
do  see  me  going  to  —  act  absurdly,  you  know, 
do  stop  me." 

"  I  'm  very  sorry,  but  I  Ve  got  myself  to 
stop.  Besides,  I  did  n't  undertake  to  preserve 
the  incognito  of  this  bridal  party." 

If  any  accident  of  the  sort  dreaded  had  really 
happened,  it  would  not  have  mattered  so  much, 
for  as  yet  they  were  the  sole  occupants  of  the 
waiting-room.  To  be  sure,  the  ticket-seller  was 
there,  and  the  lady  who  checked  packages  left 
in  her  charge,  but  these  must  have  seen  so 
many  endearments  pass  between  passengers, 
that  a  fleeting  caress  or  two  would  scarcely  have 
drawn  their  notice  to  our  pair.  Yet  Isabel  did 
not  so  much  even  as  put  her  hand  into  her  hus- 
band's ;  and  as  Basil  afterwards  said,  it  was 
very  good  practice. 

Our  temporary  state,  whatever  it  is,  is  often 
mirrored  in  all  that  come  near  us,  and  our 
friends  were  fated  to  meet  frequent  parodies  of 
their  happiness  from  first  to  last  on  this  jour- 
ney. The  travesty  began  with  the  very  first 
people  who  entered  the  waiting-room  after  them- 
selves, and  who  were  a  very  young  couple  start- 
ing like  themselves  upon  a  pleasure  tour,  which 


TJie  Outset  13 


also  was  evidently  one  of  the  first  tours  of  any 
kind  that  they  had  made.  It  was  of  modest 
extent,  and  comprised  going  to  New  York  and 
back ;  but  they  talked  of  it  with  a  fluttered  and 
joyful  expectation  as  if  it  were  a  voyage  to 
Europe.  Presently  there  appeared  a  burlesque 
of  their  happiness  (but  with  a  touch  of  tragedy) 
in  that  kind  of  young  man  who  is  called  by  the 
females  of  his  class  a  fellow,  and  two  young 
women  of  that  kind  known  to  him  as  girls.  He 
took  a  place  between  these,  and  presently  began 
a  robust  flirtation  with  one  of  them.  He  pos- 
sessed himself,  after  a  brief  struggle,  of  her 
parasol,  and  twirled  it  about,  as  he  uttered,  with 
a  sort  of  tender  rudeness,  inconceivable  vapidi- 
ties, such  as  you  would  expect  from  none  but 
a  man  of  the  highest  fashion.  The  girl  thus 
courted  became  selfishly  unconscious  of  every- 
thing but  her  own  joy,  and  made  no  attempt  to 
bring  the  other  girl  within  its  warmth,  but  left 
her  to  languish  forgotten  on  the  other  side. 
The  latter  sometimes  leaned  forward,  and  tried 
to  divert  a  little  of  the  flirtation  to  herself,  but 
the  flirters  snubbed  her  with  short  answers,  and 
presently  she  gave  up  and  sat  still  in  the  sad 
patience  of  uncourted  women.  In  this  attitude 
she  became  a  burden  to  Isabel,  who  was  glad 
when  the  three  took  themselves  away,  and  were 
succeeded  by  a  very  stylish  couple  —  from  New 


14  Their  Wedding  Journey 

York,  she  knew  as  well  as  if  they  had  given  her 
their  address  on  West  999th  Street.  The  lady 
was  not  pretty,  and  she  was  not,  Isabel  thought, 
dressed  in  the  perfect  taste  of  Boston  ;  but  she 
owned  frankly  to  herself  that  the  New-York- 
eress  was  stylish,  undeniably  effective.  The 
gentleman  bought  a  ticket  for  New  York,  and 
remained  at  the  window  of  the  office  talking 
quite  easily  with  the  seller. 

"  You  could  n't  do  that,  my  poor  Basil,"  said 
Isabel,  "  you  'd  be  afraid." 

"  Oh  dear,  yes  ;  I  'm  only  too  glad  to  get  off 
without  browbeating ;  though  I  must  say  that 
this  officer  looks  affable  enough.  Really,"  he 
added,  as  an  acquaintance  of  the  ticket-seller 
came  in  and  nodded  to  him  and  said,  "  Hot,  to- 
day !  "  "  this  is  very  strange.  I  always  felt  as 
if  these  men  had  no  private  life,  no  friendships 
like  the  rest  of  us.  On  duty  they  seem  so  like 
sovereigns,  set  apart  from  mankind,  and  above 
us  all,  that  it 's  quite  incredible  they  should 
have  the  common  personal  relations." 

At  intervals  of  their  talk  and  silence  there 
came  vivid  flashes  of  lightning  and  quite  heavy 
shocks  of  thunder,  very  consoling  to  our  friends, 
who  took  them  as  so  many  compliments  to  their 
prudence  in  not  going  by  the  boat,  and  who  had 
secret  doubts  of  their  wisdom  whenever  these 
acknowledgments  were  withheld.  Isabel  went 


The  Otitset 


so  far  as  to  say  that  she  hoped  nothing  would 
happen  to  the  boat,  but  I  think  she  would  cheer- 
fully have  learned  that  the  vessel  had  been 
obliged  to  put  back  to  Newport,  on  account 
of  the  storm,  or  even  that  it  had  been  driven 
ashore  at  a  perfectly  safe  place. 

People  constantly  came  and  went  in  the  wait- 
ing-room, which  was  sometimes  quite  full,  and 
again  empty  of  all  but  themselves.  In  the  course 
of  their  observations  they  formed  many  cordial 
friendships  and  bitter  enmities  upon  the  ground 
of  personal  appearance, 
or  particulars  of  dress, 
with  people  whom  they 
saw  for  half  a  minute 
upon  an  average  ;  and 
they  took  such  a  keen 
interest  in  every  one,  that 
it  would  be  hard  to  say 
whether  they  were  more 
concerned  in  an  old  gen- 
tleman with  vigorously 
upright  iron  -  gray  hair, 
who  sat  fronting  them, 
and  reading  all  the  even- 
ing papers,  or  a  young 
man  who  hurled  himself 
through  the  door,  bought 

a  ticket  With  terrific  pre-  Running  for  the  Train 


1 6  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 


cipitation,  burst  out  again,  and  then  ran  down  a 
departing  train  before  it  got  out  of  the  station : 
they  loved  the  old  gentleman  for  a  certain  stub- 
born benevolence  of  expression,  and  if  they  had 
been  friends  of  the  young  man  and  his  family  for 
generations,  and  felt  bound  if  any  harm  befell 
him  to  go  and  break  the  news  gently  to  his 
parents,  their  nerves  could  not  have  been  more 
intimately  wrought  upon  by  his  hazardous  be- 
havior. Still,  as  they  had  their  tickets  for  New 
York,  and  he  was  going  out  on  a  merely  local 
train,  —  to  Brookline,  I  believe,  —  they  could 
not,  even  in  their  anxiety,  repress  a  feeling  of 
contempt  for  his  unambitious  destination. 

They  were  already  as  completely  cut  off  from 
local  associations  and  sympathies  as  if  they  were 
a  thousand  miles  and  many  months  away  from 
Boston.  They  enjoyed  the  lonely  flaring  of  the 
gas-jets  as  a  gust  of  wind  drew  through  the  sta- 
tion ;  they  shared  the  gloom  and  isolation  of  a 
man  who  took  a  seat  in  the  darkest  corner  of 
the  room,  and  sat  there  with  folded  arms,  the 
genius  of  absence.  In  the  patronizing  spirit  of 
travelers  in  a  foreign  country  they  noted  and 
approved  the  vases  of  cut  flowers  in  the  booth 
of  the  lady  who  checked  packages,  and  the  pots 
of  ivy  in  her  windows.  "  These  poor  Boston i- 
ans,"  they  said,  "have  some  love  of  the  beau- 
tiful in  their  rugged  natures." 


The  Outset 


But  after  all  was  said  and  thought,  it  was  only 
eight  o'clock,  and  they  still  had  an  hour  to  wait 

Basil  grew  restless,  and  Isabel  said,  with  a 
subtile  interpretation  of  his  uneasiness,  "/don't 
want  anything  to  eat,  Basil,  but  I  think  I  know 
the  weaknesses  of  men  ;  and  you  had  better  go 
and  pass  the  next  half  hour  over  a  plate  of 
something  indigestible." 

This  was  said  con  stizza,  the  least  little  sug- 
gestion of  it ;  but  Basil  rose  with  shameful  alac- 
rity. "  Darling,  if  it 's  your  wish  "  — 

"  It 's  my  fate,  Basil,"  said  Isabel. 
—  "  I  '11  go,"  he  exclaimed,  "  because  it  is  n't 
bridal,  and  will  help  us  to  pass  for  old  married 
people." 

"  No.  no,  Basil,  be  honest ;  fibbing  is  n't  your 
forte:  I  wonder  you  went  into  the  insurance 
business  ;  you  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer.  Go 
because  you  like  eating,  and  are  hungry,  per- 
haps, or  think  you  may  be  so  before  we  get  to 
New  York.  I  shall  amuse  myself  well  enough 
here." 

I  suppose  it  is  always  a  little  shocking  and 
grievous  to  a  wife  when  she  recognizes  a  rival 
in  butchers'-meat  and  the  vegetables  of  the  sea- 
son. With  her  slender  relishes  for  pastry  and 
confectionery,  and  her  dainty  habits  of  lunch- 
ing, she  cannot  reconcile  with  the  ideal  her 
husband's  capacity  for  breakfasting,  dining,  sup- 


1 8  Their  Wedding  Journey 

ping,  and  hot  meals  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and 
night  —  as  they  write  it  on  the  sign-boards  of 
barbaric  eating-houses.  But  Isabel  would  have 
only  herself  to  blame  if  she  had  not  perceived 
this  trait  of  Basil's  before  marriage.  She  re- 
curred now,  as  his  figure  disappeared  down  the 
station,  to  memorable  instances  of  his  appetite 
in  their  European  travels  during  their  first  en- 
gagement. "  Yes,  he  ate  terribly  at  Susa,  when 
I  was  too  full  of  the  notion  of  getting  into  Italy 
to  care  for  bouillon  and  cold  roast  chicken.  At 
Rome  I  thought  I  must  break  with  him  on  ac- 
count of  the  wild  boar ;  and  at  Heidelberg,  the 
sausage  and  the  ham  !  —  how  could  he,  in  rny 
presence  ?  But  I  took  him  with  all  his  faults, 
—  and  was  glad  to  get  him,"  she  added,  ending 
her  meditation  with  a  little  burst  of  candor  ;  and 
she  did  not  even  think  of  Basil's  appetite  when 
he  reappeared. 

With  the  thronging  of  many  sorts  of  people, 
in  parties  and  singly,  into  the  waiting-room, 
they  became  once  again  mere  observers  of  their 
kind,  more  or  less  critical  in  temper,  until  the 
crowd  grew  so  that  individual  traits  were  merged 
in  the  character  of  multitude.  Even  then,  they 
could  catch  glimpses  of  faces  so  sweet  or  fine 
that  they  made  themselves  felt  like  moments  of 
repose  in  the  tumult,  and  here  and  there  was 
something  so  grotesque  in  dress  or  manner  that 


The  Outset  19 


it  showed  distinct  from  the  rest.  The  ticket- 
seller's  stamp  clicked  incessantly  as  he  sold 
tickets  to  all  points  South  and  West :  to  New 
York,  Philadelphia,  Charleston  ;  to  New  Or- 
leans, Chicago,  Omaha  ;  to  St.  Paul,  Duluth,  St. 
Louis  ;  and  it  would  not  have  been  hard  to  find 
in  that  anxious  bustle,  that  unsmiling  eagerness, 
an  image  of  the  whole  busy  affair  of  life.  It  was 
not  a  particularly  sane  spectacle,  that  impatience 
to  be  off  to  some  place  that  lay  not  only  in  the 
distance,  but  also  in  the  future  —  to  which  no 
line  of  road  carries  you  with  absolute  certainty 
across  an  interval  of  time  full  of  every  imagi- 
nable chance  and  influence.  It  is  easy  enough 
to  buy  a  ticket  to  Cincinnati,  but  it  is  somewhat 
harder  to  arrive  there.  Say  that  all  goes  well, 
is  it  exactly  you  who  arrive  ? 

In  the  midst  of  the  disquiet  there  entered  at 
last  an  old  woman,  so  very  infirm  that  she  had 
to  be  upheld  on  either  hand  by  her  husband  and 
the  hackman  who  had  brought  them,  while  a 
young  girl  went  before  with  shawls  and  pillows, 
which  she  arranged  upon  the  seat.  There  the 
invalid  lay  down,  and  turned  towards  the  crowd 
a  white,  suffering  face,  which  was  yet  so  heav- 
enly meek  and  peaceful  that  it  comforted  who- 
ever looked  at  it.  In  spirit  our  happy  friends 
bowed  themselves  before  it  and  owned  that 
there  was  something  better  than  happiness  in  it. 


20  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"What  is  it  like,  Isabel?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  darling,"  she  said;  but 
she  thought,  "  Perhaps  it  is  like  some  blessed 
sorrow  that  takes  us  out  of  this  prison  of  a 
world,  and  sets  us  free  of  our  every-day  hates 
and  desires,  our  aims,  our  fears,  ourselves. 
Maybe  a  long  and  mortal  sickness  might  come 
to  wear  such  a  face  in  one  of  us  two,  and  the 
other  could  see  it,  and  not  regret  the  poor 
mask  of  youth  and  pretty  looks  that  had  fallen 
away." 

She  rose  and  went  over  to  the  sick  woman, 
on  whose  face  beamed  a  tender  smile  as  Isabel 
spoke  to  her.  A  chord  thrilled  in  two  lives 
hitherto  unknown  to  each  other ;  but  what  was 
said  Basil  would  not  ask  when  the  invalid  had 
taken  Isabel's  hand  between  her  own,  as  for 
adieu,  and  she  came  back  to  his  side  with  swim- 
ming eyes.  Perhaps  his  wife  could  have  given 
no  good  reason  for  her  emotion,  if  he  had  asked 
it.  But  it  made  her  very  sweet  and  dear  to 
him ;  and  I  suppose  that  when  a  tolerably  un- 
selfish man  is  once  secure  of  a  woman's  love, 
he  is  ordinarily  more  affected  by  her  compas- 
sion and  tenderness  for  other  objects  than  by 
her  feelings  towards  himself.  He  likes  well 
enough  to  think,  "She  loves  me,"  but  still  bet- 
ter, "  How  kind  and  good  she  is!" 

They  lost  sight  of  the  invalid  in  the  hurry  of 


The  O  tit  set  21 


getting  places  on  the  cars,  and  they  never  saw 
her  again.  The  man  at  the  wicket-gate  leading 
to  the  train  had  thrown  it  up,  and  the  people 
were  pressing  furiously  through  as  if  their  lives 
hung  upon  the  chance  of  instant  passage.  Basil 
had  secured  his  ticket  for  the  sleeping-car,  and 
so  he  and  Isabel  stood  aside  and  watched  the 
tumult.  When  the  rush  was  over  they  passed 
through,  and  as  they  walked  up  and  down  the 
platform  beside  the  train,  "  I  was  thinking," 
said  Isabel,  "  after  I  spoke  to  that  poor  old  lady, 
of  what  Clara  Williams  says :  that  she  wonders 
the  happiest  women  in  the  world  can  look  each 
other  in  the  face  without  bursting  into  tears, 
their  happiness  is  so  unreasonable,  and  so  built 
upon  and  hedged  about  with  misery.  She  de- 
clares that  there  's  nothing  so  sad  to  her  as  a 
bride,  unless  it 's  a  young  mother,  or  a  little  girl 
growing  up  in  the  innocent  gayety  of  her  heart. 
She  wonders  they  can  live  through  it." 

"  Clara  is  very  much  of  a  reformer,  and 
would  make  an  end  of  all  of  us  men,  I  sup- 
pose, —  except  her  father,  who  supports  her 
in  the  leisure  that  enables  her  to  do  her  deep 
thinking.  She  little  knows  what  we  poor  fel- 
lows have  to  suffer,  and  how  often  we  break 
down  in  business  hours,  and  sob  upon  one  an- 
other's necks.  Did  that  old  lady  talk  to  you  in 
the  same  strain  ? " 


22  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  Oh  no  !  she  spoke  very  calmly  of  her  sick- 
ness, and  said  she  had  lived  a  blessed  life. 
Perhaps  it  was  that  made  me  shed  those  few 
small  tears.  She  seemed  a  very  religious  per- 
son." 

"Yes,"  said  Basil,  "it  is  almost  a  pity  that 
religion  is  going  out.  But  then  you  are  to 
have  the  franchise." 

"All  aboard!" 

This  warning  cry  saved  him  from  whatever 
heresy  he  might  have  been  about  to  utter ; 
and  presently  the  train  carried  them  out  into 
the  gas-sprinkled  darkness,  with  an  ever-growing 
speed  that  soon  left  the  city  lamps  far  behind. 
It  is  a  phenomenon  whose  commonness  alone 
prevents  it  from  being  most  impressive,  that 
departure  of  the  night  express.  The  two  hun- 
dred miles  it  is  to  travel  stretch  before  it,  traced 
by  those  slender  clews,  to  lose  which  is  ruin, 
and  about  which  hang  so  many  dangers.  The 
drawbridges  that  gape  upon  the  way,  the  trains 
that  stand  smoking  and  steaming  on  the  track, 
the  rail  that  has  borne  the  wear  so  long  that 
it  must  soon  snap  under  it,  the  deep  cut  where 
the  overhanging  mass  of  rock  trembles  to  its 
fall,  the  obstruction  that  a  pitiless  malice  may 
have  placed  in  your  path, — you  think  of  these 
after  the  journey  is  done,  but  they  seldom 
haunt  your  fancy  while  it  lasts.  The  know- 


The  Outset 


ledge  of  your  helplessness  in 
any  circumstances  is  so  perfect 
that  it  begets  a  sense  of  irre- 
sponsibility, almost  of  secu- 
rity ;  and  as  you  drowse  upon 
the  pallet  of  the  sleeping-car, 
and  feel  yourself  hurled  for- 
ward through  the  obscurity, 
you  are  almost  thankful  that 
you  can  do  nothing,  for  it  is 
upon  this  condition  only  that 
you  can  endure  it ;  and  some 
such  condition  as  this,  I  sup- 
pose, accounts  for  many  heroic 
facts  in  the  world.  To  the  fan- 
tastic mood  which  possesses 
you  equally,  sleeping  or  wak- 
ing, the  stoppages  of  the  train 
have  a  weird  character ;  and 
Worcester,  Springfield,  New  Haven,  and  Stam- 
ford are  rather  points  in  dreamland  than  well- 
known  towns  of  New  England.  As  the  train 
stops  you  drowse  if  you  have  been  waking,  and 
wake  if  you  have  been  in  a  doze ;  but  in  any 
case  you  are  aware  of  the  locomotive  hissing 
and  coughing  beyond  the  station,  of  flaring  gas- 
jets,  of  clattering  feet  of  passengers  getting  on 
and  off ;  then  of  some  one,  conductor  or  station- 
master,  walking  the  whole  length  of  the  train ; 


A  Night  Scene 


24  Their  Wedding  Journey 


and  then  you  are  aware  of  an  insane  satisfaction 
in  renewed  flight  through  the  darkness.  You 
think  hazily  of  the  folk  in  their  beds  in  the 
town  left  behind,  who  stir  uneasily  at  the  sound 
of  your  train's  departing  whistle  ;  and  so  all  is  a 
blank  vigil  or  a  blank  slumber. 

By  daylight  Basil  and  Isabel  found  themselves 
at  opposite  ends  of  the  car,  struggling  severally 
with  the  problem  of  the  morning's  toilet.  When 
the  combat  was  ended,  they  were  surprised  at 
the  decency  of  their  appearance,  and  Isabel 
said,  "  I  think  I  'm  presentable  to  an  early 
Broadway  public,  and  I  've  a  fancy  for  not  go- 
ing to  a  hotel.  Lucy  will  be  expecting  us  out 
there  before  noon ;  and  we  can  pass  the  time 
pleasantly  enough  for  a  few  hours  just  wander- 
ing about."  She  was  a  woman  who  loved  any 
cheap  defiance  of  custom,  and  she  had  an  agree- 
able sense  of  adventure  in  what  she  proposed. 
Besides,  she  felt  that  nothing  could  be  more 
in  the  unconventional  spirit  in  which  they 
meant  to  make  their  whole  journey  than  a 
stroll  about  New  York  at  half  past  six  in  the 
morning. 

"  Delightful ! "  answered  Basil,  who  was  al- 
ways charmed  with  these  small  originalities. 
"  You  look  well  enough  for  an  evening  party ; 
and  besides,  you  won't  meet  one  of  your  own 
critical  class  on  Broadway  at  this  hour.  We 


The  Outset 


will  breakfast  at  one  of  those  gilded  metropol- 
itan restaurants,  and  then  go  round  to  Leon- 
ard's, who  will  be  able  to  give  us  just  three 
unhurried  seconds.  After  that  we  '11  push  on 
out  to  his  place." 

At  that  early  hour  there  were  not  many  peo- 
ple astir  on  the  wide  avenue  down  which  our 
friends  strolled  when  they  left  the  station  ;  but 
in  the  aspect  of  those  they  saw  there  was  some- 
thing that  told  of  a 
greater  heat  than  they 
had  yet  known  in  Bos- 
ton, and  they  were  sen- 
sible of  having  reached 
a  more  southern  lati- 
tude. The  air,  though 
freshened  by  the  over- 
night's storm,  still 
wanted  the  briskness 
and  sparkle  and  pun- 
gency of  the  Boston  air, 
which  is  as  delicious  in 
summer  as  it  is  terri- 
ble in  winter  ;  and  the 
faces  that  showed  themselves  were  sodden  from 
the  yesterday's  heat  and  perspiration.  A  corner- 
grocer,  seated  in  a  sort  of  fierce  despondency 
upon  a  keg  near  his  shop  door,  had  lightly 
equipped  himself  for  the  struggle  of  the  day 


Early  Morning 


26  Their  Wedding  Journey 


in  the  battered  armor  of  the  day  before,  and  in 
a  pair  of  roomy  pantaloons,  and  a  baggy  shirt 
of  neutral  tint,  —  perhaps  he  had  made  a  vow 
not  to  change  it  whilst  the  siege  of  the  hot 
weather  lasted,  —  now  confronted  the  advancing 
sunlight,  before  which  the  long  shadows  of  the 
buildings  were  slowly  retiring.  A  marketing 
mother  of  a  family  paused  at  a  provision  store, 
and  looking  weakly  in  at  the  white-aproned 
butcher  among  his  meats  and  flies,  passed  with- 
out an  effort  to  purchase.  Hurried  and  wearied 
shop-girls  tripped  by  in  the  draperies  that 
betrayed  their  sad  necessity  to  be  both  fine  and 
shabby ;  from  a  boarding-house  door  issued 
briskly  one  of  those  cool  young  New-Yorkers 
whom  no  circumstances  can  oppress  :  breezy- 
coated,  white-linened,  clean,  with  a  good  cigar 
in  the  mouth,  a  light  cane  caught  upon  the 
elbow  of  one  of  the  arms  holding  up  the  paper 
from  which  the  morning's  news  is  snatched, 
whilst  the  person  sways  lightly  with  the  walk ; 
in  the  street-cars  that  slowly  tinkled  up  and 
down  were  rows  of  people  with  baskets  between 
their  legs  and  papers  before  their  faces  ;  and  all 
showed  by  some  peculiarity  of  air  or  dress  the 
excess  of  heat  which  they  had  already  borne, 
and  to  which  they  seemed  to  look  forward,  and 
gave  by  the  scantiness  of  their  number  a  vivid 
impression  of  the  uncounted  thousands  within 


The  Outset  27 


doors  prolonging,  before  the  day's  terror  began, 
the  oblivion  of  sleep. 

As  they  turned  into  one  of  the  numerical 
streets  to  cross  to  Broadway,  and  found  them- 
selves in  a  yet  deeper  seclusion,  Basil  began  to 
utter  in  a  musing  tone  :  — 

"A  city  against  the  world's  gray  Prime, 
Lost  in  some  desert,  far  from  Time, 
Where  noiseless  Ages  gliding  through, 
Have  only  sifted  sands  and  dew,  — 
Yet  still  a  marble  hand  of  man 
Lying  on  all  the  haunted  plan ; 
The  passions  of  the  human  heart 
Beating  the  marble  breast  of  Art,  — 
Were  not  more  lone  to  one  who  first 
Upon  its  giant  silence  burst, 
Than  this  strange  quiet,  where  the  tide 
Of  life,  upheaved  on  either  side, 
Hangs  trembling,  ready  soon  to  beat 
With  human  waves  the  Morning  Street." 

"How  lovely!"  said  Isabel,  swiftly  catching 
at  her  skirt,  and  deftly  escaping  contact  with 
one  of  a  long  row  of  ash-barrels  posted  sentinel- 
like  on  the  edge  of  the  pavement.  "  Whose  is 
it,  Basil  ?  " 

"Ah!  a  poet's,"  answered  her  husband,  "a 
man  of  whom  we  shall  one  day  any  of  us  be 
glad  to  say  that  we  liked  him  before  he  was 
famous.  What  a  nebulous  sweetness  the  first 
lines  have,  and  what  a  clear,  cool  light  of  day- 
break in  the  last !  " 


28  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  You  could  have  been  as  good  a  poet  as  that, 
Basil,"  said  the  ever  personal  and  concretely 
speaking  Isabel,  who  could  not  look  at  a  moun- 
tain without  thinking  what  Basil  might  have 
done  in  that  way,  if  he  had  tried. 

"  Oh  no,  I  could  n't,  dear.  It 's  very  difficult 
being  any  poet  at  all,  though  it 's  easy  to  be  like 
one.  But  I  Ve  done  with  it ;  I  broke  with  the 
Muse  the  day  you  accepted  me.  She  came  into 
my  office,  looking  so  shabby,  —  not  unlike  one 
of  those  poor  shop-girls ;  and  as  I  was  very 
well  dressed  from  having  just  been  to  see  you, 
why,  you  know,  I  felt  the  difference.  '  Well, 
my  dear  ? '  said  I,  not  quite  liking  the  look  of 
reproach  she  was  giving  me.  '  You  are  going 
to  leave  me,'  she  answered,  sadly.  '  Well,  yes  ; 
I  suppose  I  must.  You  see  the  insurance  busi- 
ness is  very  absorbing ;  and  besides,  it  has  a 
bad  appearance,  your  coming  about  so  in  office 
hours,  and  in  those  clothes.'  '  Oh/  she  moaned 
out,  'you  used  to  welcome  me  at  all  times, 
out  in  the  country,  and  thought  me  prettily 
dressed.'  '  Yes,  yes  ;  but  this  is  Boston  ;  and 
Boston  makes  a  great  difference  in  one's  ideas  ; 
and  I  'm  going  to  be  married,  too.  Come,  I 
don't  want  to  seem  ungrateful  ;  we  have  had 
many  pleasant  times  together,  I  own  it  ;  and 
I  Ve  no  objections  to  your  being  present  at 
Christmas  and  Thanksgiving  and  birthdays, 


The  Outset  29 


but  really  I  must  draw  the  line  there/  She 
gave  me  a  look  that  made  my  heart  ache,  and 
went  straight  to  my  desk  and  took  out  of  a 
pigeon-hole  a  lot  of  papers,  —  odes  upon  your 
cruelty,  Isabel;  songs  to  you;  sonnets, — the 
sonnet,  a  mighty  poor  one,  I  'd  made  the  day 
before,  —  and  threw  them  all  into  the  grate. 
Then  she  turned  to  me  again,  signed  adieu  with 
mute  lips,  and  passed  out.  I  could  hear  the 
bottom  wire  of  the  poor  thing's  hoop-skirt  click- 
ing against  each  step  of  the  stairway,  as  she 
went  slowly  and  heavily  down  to  the  street." 

"Oh  don't  —  don't,  Basil,"  said  his  wife,  "it 
seems  like  something  wrong.  I  think  you  ought 
to  have  been  ashamed." 

"  Ashamed  !  I  was  heart-broken.  But  it 
had  to  come  to  that.  As  I  got  hopeful  about 
you,  the  Muse  became  a  sad  bore  ;  and  more 
than  once  I  found  myself  smiling  at  her  when 
her  back  was  turned.  The  Muse  does  n't  like 
being  laughed  at  any  more  than  another  woman 
would,  and  she  would  have  left  me  shortly. 
No,  I  could  n't  be  a  poet  like  our  Morning 
Street  friend.  But  see !  the  human  wave  is 
beginning  to  sprinkle  the  pavement  with  cooks 
and  second-girls." 

They  were  frowzy  serving-maids  and  silent ; 
each  swept  down  her  own  doorsteps  and  the 
pavement  in  front  of  her  own  house,  and  then 


30  Their  Wedding  Journey 


knocked  her  broom  on  the  curbstone  and  van- 
ished into  the  house,  on  which  the  hand  of 
change  had  already  fallen.  It  was  no  longer  a 
street  solely  devoted  to  the  domestic  gods,  but 
had  been  invaded  at  more  than  one  point  by 
the  bustling  deities  of  business  :  in  such  streets 
the  irregular,  inspired  doctors  and  doctresses 
come  first  with  inordinate  door-plates,  then  a 
milliner  filling  the  parlor  window  with  new  bon- 
nets ;  here  even  a  publisher  had  hung  his  sign 
beside  a  door,  through  which  the  feet  of  young 
ladies  used  to  trip,  and  the  feet  of  little  children 
to  patter.  Here  and  there  stood  groups  of 
dwellings  unmolested  as  yet  outwardly ;  but 
even  these  had  a  certain  careworn  and  guilty 
air,  as  if  they  knew  themselves  to  be  cheapish 
boarding-houses  or  furnished  lodgings  for  gen- 
tlemen, and  were  trying  to  hide  it.  To  these 
belonged  the  frowzy  serving-women  ;  to  these 
the  rows  of  ash-barrels,  in  which  the  decrepit 
children  and  mothers  of  the  streets  were  claw- 
ing for  bits  of  coal. 

By  the  time  Basil  and  Isabel  reached  Broadway 
there  were  already  some  omnibuses  beginning 
their  long  day's  travel  up  and  down  the  hand- 
some, tiresome  length  of  that  avenue ;  but  for 
the  most  part  it  was  empty.  There  was,  of 
course,  a  hurry  of  foot-passengers  upon  the  side- 
walks, but  these  were  sparse  and  uncharacter- 


The  Outset  31 


istic,  for  New  York  proper  was  still  fast  asleep. 
The  waiter  at  the  restaurant  into  which  our 
friends  stepped  was  so  well  aware  of  this,  and  so 
perfectly  assured  they  were  not  of  the  city,  that 
he  could  not  forbear  a  little  patronage  of  them, 
which  they  did  not  resent.  He  brought  Basil 
what  he  had  ordered  in  barbaric  abundance,  and 
charged  for  it  with  barbaric  splendor.  It  is  all 
but  impossible  not  to  wish  to  stand  well  with 
your  waiter  :  I  have  myself  been  often  treated 
with  conspicuous  rudeness  by  the  tribe,  yet  I 
have  never  been  able  to  withhold  the  douceur 
that  marked  me  for  a  gentleman  in  their  eyes, 
and  entitled  me  to  their  dishonorable  esteem. 
Basil  was  not  superior  to  this  folly,  and  left  the 
waiter  with  the  conviction  that,  if  he  was  not 
a  New  Yorker,  he  was  a  high-bred  man  of  the 
world  at  any  rate. 

Vexed  by  a  sense  of  his  own  pitifulness,  this 
man  of  the  world  continued  his  pilgrimage  down 
Broadway,  which  even  in  that  desert  state  was 
full  of  a  certain  interest.  Troops  of  laborers 
straggled  along  the  pavements,  each  with  his 
dinner-pail  in  hand ;  and  in  many  places  the 
eternal  building  up  and  pulling  down  was  already 
going  on  ;  carts  were  struggling  up  the  slopes  of 
vast  cellars,  with  loads  of  distracting  rubbish  ; 
here  stood  the  half-demolished  walls  of  a  house, 
with  a  sad  variety  of  wall-paper  showing  in  the 


32  Their  Wedding  Journey 

different  rooms ;  there  clinked  the  trowel  upon 
the  brick,  yonder  the  hammer  on  the  stone  ;  over- 
head swung  and  threatened  the  marble  block 
that  the  derrick  was  lifting  to  its  place.  As  yet 
these  forces  of  demolition  and  construction  had 
the  business  of  the  street  almost  to  themselves. 

"  Why,  how  shabby  the  street  is  !  "  said  Isabel, 
at  last.  "  When  I  landed,  after  being  abroad,  I 
remember  that  Broadway  impressed  me  with  its 
splendor." 

"  Ah  !  but  you  were  merely  coming  from  Eu- 
rope then ;  and  now  you  arrive  from  Boston,  and 
are  contrasting  this  poor  Broadway  with  Wash- 
ington Street.  Don't  be  hard  upon  it,  Isabel ; 
every  street  can't  be  a  Boston  street,  you  know," 
said  Basil.  Isabel,  herself  a  Bostonian  of  great 
intensity  both  by  birth  and  conviction,  believed 
her  husband  the  only  man  able  to  have  thor- 
oughly baffled  the  malignity  of  the  stars  in 
causing  him  to  be  born  out  of  Boston ;  yet  he 
sometimes  trifled  with  his  hardly  achieved  tri- 
umph, and  even  showed  an  indifference  to  it,  with 
an  insincerity  of  which  there  can  be  no  doubt 
whatever. 

"  Oh  stuff  !  "  she  retorted,  "  as  if  I  had  any  of 
that  silly  local  pride  !  Though  you  know  well 
enough  that  Boston  is  the  best  place  in  the 
world.  But,  Basil !  I  suppose  Broadway  strikes 
us  as  so  fine,  on  coming  ashore  from  Europe 


The  Outset  33 


because  we  hardly  expect  anything  of  America 
then." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  the  street  has 
some  positive  grandeur  of  its  own,  though  it 
needs  a  multitude  of  people  in  it  to  bring  out  its 
best  effects.  I  '11  allow  its  disheartening  shabbi- 
ness  and  meanness  in  many  ways  ;  but  to  stand 
in  front  of  Grace  Church,  on  a  clear  day,  —  a 
day  of  late  September,  say,  —  and  look  down  the 
swarming  length  of  Broadway,  on  the  move- 
ment and  the  numbers,  while  the  Niagara  roar 
swelled  and  swelled  from  those  human  rapids, 
was  always  like  strong  new  wine  to  me.  I  don't 
think  the  world  affords  such  another  sight ;  and 
for  one  moment,  at  such  times,  I  'd  have  been 
willing  to  be  an  Irish  councilman,  that  I  might 
have  some  right  to  the  pride  I  felt  in  the  capital 
of  the  Irish  Republic.  What  a  fine  thing  it  must 
be  for  each  victim  of  six  centuries  of  oppression 
to  reflect  that  he  owns  at  least  a  dozen  Ameri- 
cans, and  that,  with  his  fellows,  he  rules  a  hun- 
dred helpless  millionaires  !  " 

Like  all  daughters  of  a  free  country,  Isabel 
knew  nothing  about  politics,  and  she  felt  that 
she  was  getting  into  deep  water ;  she  answered 
buoyantly,  but  she  was  glad  to  make  her  weari- 
ness the  occasion  of  hailing  a  stage,  and  chang- 
ing the  conversation.  The  farther  down  town 
they  went  the  busier  the  street  grew ;  and 


34  Their  Wedding  Journey 

about  the  Astor  House,  where  they  alighted, 
there  was  already  a  bustle  that  nothing  but  a 
fire  could  have  created  at  the  same  hour  in  Bos- 
ton. A  little  farther  on,  the  steeple  of  Trinity 
rose  high  into  the  scorching  sunlight,  while 
below,  in  the  shadow  that  was  darker  than  it 
was  cool,  slumbered  the  old  graves  among  their 
flowers. 

"  How  still  they  lie  ! "  mused  the  happy  wife, 
peering  through  the  iron  fence  in  passing. 

"  Yes,  their  wedding  journeys  are  ended, 
poor  things  ! "  said  Basil ;  and  through  both 
their  minds  flashed  the  wonder  if  they  should 
ever  come  to  something  like  that ;  but  it  ap- 
peared so  impossible  that  they  both  smiled  at 
the  absurdity. 

"It's  too  early  yet  for  Leonard,"  continued 
Basil ;  "  what  a  pity  the  churchyard  is  locked 
up.  We  could  spend  the  time  so  delightfully 
in  it.  But,  never  mind  ;  let  us  go  down  to  the 
Battery, — it's  not  a  very  pleasant  place,  but 
it's  near,  and  it's  historical,  and  it's  open, — 
where  these  drowsy  friends  of  ours  used  to  take 
the  air  when  they  were  in  the  fashion,  and  had 
some  occasion  for  the  element  in  its  freshness. 
You  can  imagine — it's  cheap — how  they 
used  to  see  Mr.  Burr  and  Mr.  Hamilton  down 
there." 

All  places    that  fashion  has  once  loved  and 


Trinity  Churchyard 


The  Outset  37 


abandoned  are  very  melancholy  ;  but  of  all  such 
places,  I  think  the  Battery  is  the  most  forlorn. 
Are  there  some  sickly  locust-trees  there  that 
cast  a  tremulous  and  decrepit  shade  upon  the 
mangy  grass-plots  ?  I  believe  so,  but  I  do  not 
make  sure  ;  I  am  certain  only  of  the  mangy 
grass-plots,  or  rather  the  spaces  between  the 
paths,  thinly  overgrown  with  some  kind  of  ref- 
use and  opprobrious  weed,  a  stunted  and  pauper 
vegetation  proper  solely  to  the  New  York  Bat- 
tery. At  that  hour  of  the  summer  morning 
when  our  friends,  with  the  aimlessness  of 
strangers  who  are  waiting  to  do  something  else, 
saw  the  ancient  promenade,  a  few  scant  and 
hungry-eyed  little  boys  and  girls  were  wander- 
ing over  this  weedy  growth,  not  playing,  but 
moving  listlessly  to  and  fro,  fantastic  in  the 
wild  inaptness  of  their  costumes.  One  of  these 
little  creatures  wore,  with  an  odd  involuntary 
jauntiness,  the  cast-off  best  dress  of  some  hap- 
pier child,  a  gay  little  garment  cut  low  in  the 
neck  and  short  in  the  sleeves,  which  gave  her 
the  grotesque  effect  of  having  been  at  a  party 
the  night  before.  Presently  came  two  jaded 
women,  a  mother  and  a  grandmother,  that  ap- 
peared, when  they  had  crawled  out  of  their 
beds,  to  have  put  on  only  so  much  clothing  as 
the  law  compelled.  They  abandoned  them- 
selves upon  the  green  stuff,  whatever  it  was, 


38  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and,  with  their  lean  hands  clasped  outside  their 
knees,  sat  and  stared,  silent  and  hopeless,  at  the 
eastern  sky,  at  the  heart  of  the  terrible  fur- 
nace, into  which  in  those  days  the  world  seemed 
cast  to  be  burnt  up,  while  the  child  which  the 
younger  woman  had  brought  with  her  feebly 
wailed  unheeded  at  her  side.  On  one  side  of 
these  women  were  the  shameless  houses  out  of 
which  they  might  have  crept,  and  which  some- 
how suggested  riotous  maritime  dissipation  ;  on 
the  other  side  were  those  houses  in  which  had 
once  dwelt  rich  and  famous  folk,  but  which  were 
now  dropping  down  the  boarding-house  scale 
through  various  unhomelike  occupations  to 
final  dishonor  and  despair.  Down  nearer  the 
water,  and  not  far  from  the  castle  that  was  once 
a  playhouse  and  is  now  the  depot  of  emigra- 
tion, stood  certain  express-wagons,  and  about 
these  lounged  a  few  hard  -  looking  men.  Be- 
yond laughed  and  danced  the  fresh  blue  water 
of  the  bay,  dotted  with  sails  and  smokestacks. 

"  Well,"  said  Basil,  "  I  think  if  I  could  choose, 
I  should  like  to  be  a  friendless  German  boy,  set- 
ting foot  for  the  first  time  on  this  happy  con- 
tinent. Fancy  his  rapture  on  beholding  this 
lovely  spot,  and  these  charming  American  faces  ! 
What  a  smiling  aspect  life  in  the  New  World 
must  wear  to  his  young  eyes,  and  how  his  heart 
must  leap  within  him  !  " 


The  Outset  39 


"  Yes,  Basil ;  it 's  all  very  pleasing,  and  thank 
you  for  bringing  me.  But  if  you  don't  think  of 
any  other  New  York  delights  to  show  me,  do 
let  us  go  and  sit  in  Leonard's  office  till  he 
comes,  and  then  get  out  into  the  country  as 
soon  as  possible." 

Basil  defended  himself  against  the  imputation 
that  he  had  been  trying  to  show  New  York  to 
his  wife,  or  that  he  had  any  thought  but  of  whil- 
ing  away  the  long  morning  hours  until  it  should 
be  time  to  go  to  Leonard.  He  protested  that  a 
knowledge  of  Europe  made  New  York  the  most 
uninteresting  town  in  America,  and  that  it  was 
the  last  place  in  the  world  where  he  should 
think  of  amusing  himself  or  any  one  else ;  and 
then  they  both  upbraided  the  city's  bigness  and 
dullness  with  an  enjoyment  that  none  but  Bos- 
tonians  can  know.  They  particularly  derided 
the  notion  of  New  York's  being  loved  by  any 
one.  It  was  immense,  it  was  grand  in  some 
ways,  parts  of  it  were  exceedingly  handsome ; 
but  it  was  too  vast,  too  coarse,  too  restless. 
They  could  imagine  its  being  liked  by  a  suc- 
cessful young  man  of  business,  or  by  a  rich 
young  girl,  ignorant  of  life  and  with  not  too 
nice  a  taste  in  her  pleasures  ;  but  that  it  should 
be  dear  to  any  poet  or  scholar,  or  any  woman  of 
wisdom  and  refinement,  that  they  could  not 
imagine.  They  could  not  think  of  any  one's 


4°  Their  Wedding  Journey 


loving  New  York  as  Dante  loved  Florence,  or 
as  Madame  de  Stael  loved  Paris,  or  as  Johnson 
loved  black,  homely,  home-like  London.  And 
as  they  twittered  their  little  dispraises,  the 
giant  Mother  of  Commerce  was  growing  more 
and  more  conscious  of  herself,  waking  from  her 
night's  sleep  and  becoming  aware  of  her  fleets 
and  trains,  and  the  myriad  hands  and  wheels 
that  throughout  the  whole  sea  and  land  move 
for  her,  and  do  her  will  even  while  she  sleeps. 
All  about  the  wedding-journeyers  swelled  the 
deep  tide  of  life  back  from  its  night-long  ebb. 
Broadway  had  filled  her  length  with  people  ;  not 
yet  the  most  characteristic  New  York  crowd, 
but  the  not  less  interesting  multitude  of 
strangers  arrived  by  the  early  boats  and  trains, 
and  that  easily  distinguishable  class  of  lately 
New-Yorkized  people  from  other  places,  about 
whom  in  the  metropolis  still  hung  the  provincial 
traditions  of  early  rising ;  and  over  all,  from 
moment  to  moment,  the  eager,  audacious,  well- 
dressed,  proper  life  of  the  mighty  city  was 
beginning  to  prevail,  —  though  this  was  not  so 
notable  where  Basil  and  Isabel  had  paused  at  a 
certain  window.  It  was  the  office  of  one  of  the 
English  steamers,  and  he  was  saying,  "  It  was 
by  this  line  I  sailed,  you  know,"  —  and  she  was 
interrupting  him  with,  "When  who  could  have 
dreamed  that  you  would  ever  be  telling  me  of  it 


The  Outset  41 

here  ?  "  So  the  old  marvel  was  wondered  over 
anew,  till  it  filled  the  world  in  which  there  was 
room  for  nothing  but  the  strangeness  that  they 
should  have  loved  each  other  so  long  and  not 
made  it  known,  that  they  should  ever  have 
uttered  it,  and  that,  being  uttered,  it  should 
be  so  much  more  and  better  than  ever  could 
have  been  dreamed.  The  broken  engagement 
was  a  fable  of  disaster  that  only  made  their 
present  fortune  more  prosperous.  The  city 
ceased  about  them,  and  they  walked  on  up  the 
street,  the  first  man  and  first  woman  in  the  gar- 
den of  the  new-made  earth.  As  they  were  both 
very  conscious  people,  they  recognized  in  them- 
selves some  sense  of  this,  and  presently  drolled 
it  away,  in  the  opulence  of  a  time  when  every 
moment  brought  some  beautiful  dream,  and  the 
soul  could  be  prodigal  of  its  bliss. 

"  I  think  if  I  had  the  naming  of  the  animals 
over  again,  this  morning,  I  should  n't  call  snakes 
snakes;  should  you,  Eve?"  laughed  Basil  in 
intricate  acknowledgment  of  his  happiness. 

"  Oh  no,  Adam ;  we  'd  look  out  all  the  most 
graceful  euphemisms  in  the  newspapers,  and  we 
wouldn't  hurt  the  feelings  of  a  spider." 


/.  II 

A  MIDSUMMER-DAY'S  DREAM 

THEY  had  waited  to  see  Leonard,  in  order 
that  they  might  learn  better  how  to  find  his 
house  in  the  country ;  and  now,  when  they  came 
in  upon  him  at  nine  o'clock,  he  welcomed  them 
with  all  his  friendly  heart.  He  rose  from  the 
pile  of  morning's  letters  to  which  he  had  but 
just  sat  down ;  he  placed  them  the  easiest 
chairs ;  he  made  a  feint  of  its  not  being  a  busy 
hour  with  him,  and  would  have  had  them  look 
upon  his  office,  which  was  still  damp  and  odor- 
ous from  the  porter's  broom,  as  a  kind  of  down- 
town parlor  ;  but  after  they  had  briefly  accounted 
to  his  amazement  for  their  appearance  then  and 
there,  and  Isabel  had  boasted  of  the  original 
fashion  in  which  they  had  that  morning  seen 
New  York,  they  took  pity  on  him,  and  bade  him 
adieu  till  evening. 

They  crossed  from  Broadway  to  the  noisome 
street  by  the  ferry,  and  in  a  little  while  had 
taken  their  places  in  the  train  on  the  thither 
side  of  the  water. 

"Don't    tell    me,  Basil,"    said    Isabel,  "  that 


In  Leonard's  Office 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  45 

Leonard  travels  fifty   miles  every  day   by  rail 
going  to  and  from  his  work  !  " 

"  I  must,  dearest,  if  I  would  be  truthful." 
"Then,  darling,  there  are  worse  things  in  this 
world  than  living  up  at  the  South  End,  are  n't 
there  ? "  And  in  agreement  upon  Boston  as  a 
place  of  the  greatest  natural  advantages,  as  well 
as  all  acquirable  merits,  with  after-talk  that 
need  not  be  recorded,  they  arrived  in  the  best 
humor  at  the  little  country  station  near  which 
the  Leonards  dwelt. 

I  must  inevitably  follow  Mrs.  Isabel  thither, 
though  I  do  it  at  the  cost  of  the  reader,  who 
suspects  the  excitements  which  a  long  descrip- 
tion of  the  movement  would  delay.  The  ladies 
were  very  old  friends,  and  they  had  not  met 
since  Isabel's  return  from  Europe  and  renewal 
of  her  engagement.  Upon  the  news  of  this, 
Mrs.  Leonard  had  swallowed  with  surprising 
ease  all  that  she  had  said  in  blame  of  Basil's 
conduct  during  the  rupture,  and  exacted  a 
promise  from  her  friend  that  she  should  pay  her 
the  first  visit  after  their  marriage.  And  now 
that  they  had  come  together,  their  only  talk 
was  of  husbands,  whom  they  viewed  in  every 
light  to  which  husbands  could  be  turned,  and 
still  found  an  inexhaustible  novelty  in  the  theme. 
Mrs.  Leonard  beheld  in  her  friend's  joy  the 
sweet  reflection  of  her  own  honeymoon,  and 


46  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Isabel  was  pleased  to  look  upon  the  prosperous 
marriage  of  the  former  as  the  image  of  her  fu- 
ture. Thus,  with  immense  profit  and  comfort, 
they  reassured  one  another  by  every  question 
and  answer,  and  in  their  weak  content  lapsed 
far  behind  the  representative  women  of  our  age, 
when  husbands  are  at  best  a  necessary  evil,  and 
the  relation  of  wives  to  them  is  known  to  be  one 
of  pitiable  subjection.  When  these  two  pretty 
fogies  put  their  heads  of  false  hair  together,  they 
were  as  silly  and  benighted  as  their  great-grand- 
mothers could  have  been  in  the  same  circum- 
stances, and,  as  I  say,  shamefully  encouraged 
each  other  in  their  absurdity.  The  absurdity 
appeared  too  good  and  blessed  to  be  true.  "  Do 
you  really  suppose,  Basil,"  Isabel  would  say  to 
her  oppressor,  after  having  given  him  some  ele- 
gant extract  from  the  last  conversation  upon 
husbands,  "  that  we  shall  get  on  as  smoothly  as 
the  Leonards  when  we  have  been  married  ten 
years  ?  Lucy  says  that  things  go  more  hitchily 
the  first  year  than  ever  they  do  afterwards,  and 
that  people  love  each  other  better  and  better 
just  because  they  've  got  used  to  it.  Well,  our 
bliss  does  seem  a  little  crude  and  garish  com- 
pared with  their  happiness  ;  and  yet  "  —  she 
put  up  both  her  palms  against  his,  and  gave 
a  vehement  little  push  —  "  there  is  something 
agreeable  about  it,  even  at  this  stage  of  the  pro- 
ceedings." 


ffr 


Talking  their  fJitsbauds  over 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  49 

"Isabel,"  said,  her  husband,  with  severity, 
"  this  is  bridal !  " 

"  No  matter !  I  only  want  to  seem  an  old 
married  woman  to  the  general  public.  But  the 
application  of  it  is  that  you  must  be  careful  not 
to  contradict  me,  or  cross  me  in  anything,  so 
that  we  can  be  like  the  Leonards  very  much 
sooner  than  they  became  so.  The  great  object 
is  not  to  have  any  hitchiness  ;  and  you  know 
you  are  provoking  —  at  times." 

They  both  educated  themselves  for  continued 
and  tranquil  happiness  by  the  example  and  pre- 
cept of  their  friends  ;  and  the  time  passed  swiftly 
in  the  pleasant  learning,  and  in  the  novelty  of 
the  life  led  by  the  Leonards.  This  indeed  merits 
a  closer  study  than  can  be  given  here,  for  it  is 
the  life  led  by  vast  numbers  of  prosperous  New 
Yorkers  who  love  both  the  excitement  of  the 
city  and  the  repose  of  the  country,  and  who  as- 
pire to  unite  the  enjoyment  of  both  in  their 
daily  existence.  The  suburbs  of  the  metropolis 
stretch  landward  fifty  miles  in  every  direction  ; 
and  everywhere  are  handsome  villas  like  Leon- 
ard's, inhabited  by  men  like  himself,  whom  strict 
study  of  the  time-table  enables  to  spend  all  their 
working  hours  in  the  city  and  all  their  smoking 
and  sleeping  hours  in  the  country. 

The  home  and  the  neighborhood  of  the  Leon- 
ards put  on  their  best  looks  for  our  bridal  pair, 


5°  Their  Wedding  Journey 


and  they  were  charmed.  They  all  enjoyed  the 
visit,  said  guests  and  hosts,  they  were  all  sorry 
to  have  it  come  to  an  end  ;  yet  they  all  resigned 
themselves  to  this  conclusion.  Practically,  it 
had  no  other  result  than  to  detain  the  travelers 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  hot  weather.  In  that 
weather  it  was  easy  to  do  anything  that  did  not 
require  an  active  effort,  and  resignation  was  so 
natural  with  the  mercury  at  ninety,  that  I  am 
not  sure  but  there  was  something  sinful  in  it. 

They  had  given  up  their  cherished  purpose  of 
going  to  Albany  by  the  day  boat,  which  was  rep- 
resented to  them  in  every  impossible  phase.  It 
would  be  dreadfully  crowded,  and  whenever  it 
stopped  the  heat  would  be  insupportable.  Be- 
sides, it  would  bring  them  to  Albany  at  an  hour 
when  they  must  either  spend  the  night  there  or 
push  on  to  Niagara  by  the  night  train.  "  You 
had  better  go  by  the  evening  boat.  It  will  be 
light  almost  till  you  reach  West  Point,  and  you  '11 
see  all  the  best  scenery.  Then  you  can  get  a 
good  night's  rest,  and  start  fresh  in  the  morn- 
ing." So  they  were  counseled,  and  they  as- 
sented, as  they  would  have  done  if  they  had 
been  advised  :  "  You  had  better  go  by  the 
morning  boat.  It 's  deliciously  cool,  traveling  ; 
you  see  the  whole  of  the  river,  you  reach  Albany 
for  supper,  and  you  push  through  to  Niagara 
that  night  and  are  done  with  it." 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  51 

They  took  leave  of  Leonard  at  breakfast  and 
of  his  wife  at  noon,  and  fifteen  minutes  later 
they  were  rushing  from  the  heat  of  the  country 
into  the  heat  of  the  city,  where  some  affairs  and 
pleasures  were  to  employ  them  till  the  evening 
boat  should  start. 

Their  spirits  were  low,  for  the  terrible  spell 
of  the  great  heat  brooded  upon  them.  All 
abroad  burned  the  fierce  white  light  of  the  sun, 
in  which  not  only  the  earth  seemed  to  parch 
and  thirst,  but  the  very  air  withered,  and  was 
faint  and  thin  to  the  troubled  respiration. 
Their  train  was  full  of  people  who  had  come 
long  journeys  from  broiling  cities  of  the  West, 
and  who  were  dusty  and  ashen  and  reeking  in 
the  slumbers  at  which  some  of  them  still  vainly 
caught.  On  every  one  lay  an  awful  languor. 
Here  and  there  stirred  a  fan,  like  the  broken 
wing  of  a  dying  bird  ;  now  and  then  a  swelter- 
ing young  mother  shifted  her  hot  baby  from  one 
arm  to  another  ;  after  every  station  the  des- 
perate conductor  swung  through  the  long  aisle 
and  punched  the  ticket  which  each  passenger 
seemed  to  yield  him  with  a  tacit  malediction  ;  a 
suffering  child  hung  about  the  empty  tank, 
which  could  only  gasp  out  a  cindery  drop  or 
two  of  ice-water.  The  wind  buffeted  faintly  at 
the  windows  ;  when  the  door  was  opened,  the 
clatter  of  the  rails  struck  through  and  through 
the  car  like  a  demoniac  yell. 


52  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Yet  when  they  arrived  at  the  station  by  the 
ferry-side,  they  seemed  to  have  entered  its 
stifling  darkness  from  fresh  and  vigorous  atmos- 
phere, so  close  and  dead  and  mixed  with  the 
carbonic  breath  of  the  locomotives  was  the  air 
of  the  place.  The  thin  old  wooden  walls  that 
shut  out  the  glare  of  the  sun  transmitted  an 
intensified  warmth  ;  the  roof  seemed  to  hover 
lower  and  lower,  and  in  its  coal-smoked,  raftery 
hollow  to  generate  a  heat  deadlier  than  that 
poured  upon  it  from  the  skies. 

In  a  convenient  place  in  the  station  hung  a 
thermometer,  before  which  every  passenger,  on 
going  aboard  the  ferry-boat,  paused  as  at  a 
shrine,  and  mutely  paid  his  devotions.  At  the 
altar  of  this  fetich  our  friends  also  paused,  and 
saw  that  the  mercury  was  above  ninety,  and 
exulting  with  the  pride  that  savages  take  in  the 
cruel  might  of  their  idols,  bowed  their  souls  to 
the  great  god  Heat. 

On  the  boat  they  found  a  place  where  the 
breath  of  the  sea  struck  cool  across  their  faces, 
and  made  them  forget  the  thermometer  for  the 
brief  time  of  the  transit.  But  presently  they 
drew  near  that  strange,  irregular  row  of  wooden 
buildings  and  jutting  piers  which  skirts  the 
river  on  the  New  York  side,  and  before  the 
boat's  motion  ceased  the  air  grew  thick  and 
warm  again,  and  tainted  with  the  foulness  of 


.  A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  53 

the  street  on  which  the  buildings  front.  Upon 
this  the  boat's  passengers  issued,  passing  up 
through  a  gangway,  on  one  side  of  which  a 
throng  of  return-passengers  was  pent  by  a  gate 
of  iron  bars,  like  a  herd  of  wild  animals.  They 
were  streaming  with  perspiration,  and,  accord- 
ing to  their  different  temperaments,  had  faces 
of  deep  crimson  or  deadly  pallor. 

"  Now  the  question  is,  my  dear,"  said  Basil, 
when,  free  of  the  press,  they  lingered  for  a  mo- 
ment in  the  shade  outside,  "  whether  we  had 
better  walk  up  to  Broadway,  at  an  immediate 
sacrifice  of  fibre,  and  get  a  stage  there,  or  take 
one  of  these  cars  here,  and  be  landed  a  little 
nearer,  with  half  the  exertion.  By  this  route 
we  shall  have  sights  and  smells  which  the  other 
can't  offer  us,  but  whichever  we  take  we  shall 
be  sorry." 

"Then  I  say  take  this,"  decided  Isabel.  "I 
want  to  be  sorry  upon  the  easiest  possible  terms 
this  weather." 

They  hailed  the  first  car  that  passed,  and  got 
into  it.  Well  for  them  both  if  she  could  have 
exercised  this  philosophy  with  regard  to  the 
whole  day's  business,  or  if  she  could  have  given 
up  her  plans  for  it  with  the  same  resignation 
she  had  practiced  in  regard  to  the  day  boat ! 
It  seems  to  me  a  proof  of  the  small  advance 
our  race  has  made  in  true  wisdom,  that  we  find 


54  Their  Wedding  Journey     . 

it  so  hard  to  give  up  doing  anything  we  have 
meant  to  do.  It  matters  very  little  whether  the 
affair  is  one  of  enjoyment  or  of  business,  we 
feel  the  same  bitter  need, of  pursuing  it  to  the 
end.  The  mere  fact  of  intention  gives  it/a 
flavor  of  duty,  and  dutiolatry,  as  one  may  call 
the  devotion,  has  passed  so  deeply  into  our  life 
that  we  have  scarcely  a  sense  any  more  of  the 
sweetness  of  even  a  neglected  pleasure.  We 
will  not  taste  the  fine,  guilty  rapture  of  a  delib- 
erate dereliction  ;  the  gentle  sin  of  omission  is 
all  but  blotted  from  the  calendar  of  our  crimes. 
If  I  had  been  Columbus,  I  should  have  thought 
twice  before  setting  sail,  when  I  was  quite  ready 
to  do  so  ;  and  as  for  Plymouth  Rock,  I  should 
have  sternly  resisted  the  blandishments  of  those 
twin  sirens,  Starvation  and  Cold,  who  beckoned 
the  Puritans  shoreward,  and  as  soon  as  ever  I 
came  in  sight  of  their  granite  perch  should  have 
turned  back  to  England.  But  it  is  now  too  late 
to  repair  these  errors,  and  so,  on  one  of  the 
hottest  days  of  last  year,  behold  my  obdurate 
bridal  pair,  in  a  Tenth  or  Twentieth  Avenue 
horse-car,  setting  forth  upon  the  fulfillment  of 
a  series  of  intentions,  any  of  which  had  wise- 
lier  been  left  unaccomplished.  Isabel  had  said 
they  would  call  upon  certain  people  in  Fiftieth 
Street,  and  then  shop  slowly  down,  ice-creaming 
and  staging  and  variously  cooling  and  calming 


A  Midsummer-Day's  Dream  55 


by  the  way,  until  they  reached  the  ticket-office 
on  Broadway,  whence  they  could  indefinitely 
betake  themselves  to  the  steamboat  an  hour  or 
two  before  her  departure.  She  felt  that  they 
had  yielded  sufficiently  to  circumstances  and 
conditions  already  on  this  journey,  and  she  was 
resolved  that  the  present  half -day  in  New  York 
should  be  the  half-day  of  her  original  design. 

It  was  not  the  most  advisable  thing,  as  I  have 
allowed,  but  it  was  inevitable,  and  it  afforded 
them  a  spectacle  which  is  by  no  means  wanting 
in  sublimity,  and  which  is  certainly  unique,  — 
the  spectacle  of  that  great  city  on  a  hot  day, 
defiant  of  the  elements,  and  prospering  on  with 
every  form  of  labor,  and  at  a  terrible  cost  of 
life.  The  man  carrying  the  hod  to  the  top  of 
the  walls  that  rankly  grow  and  grow  as  from 
his  life's  blood  will  only  lay  down  his  load  when 
he  feels  the  mortal  glare  of  the  sun  blaze  in 
upon  heart  and  brain ;  the  plethoric  millionaire 
for  whom  he  toils  will  plot  and  plan  in  his  office 
till  he  swoons  at  the  desk  ;  the  trembling  beast 
must  stagger  forward  while  the  flame-faced 
tormentor  on  the  box  has  strength  to  lash  him 
on  ;  in  all  those  vast  palaces  of  commerce  there 
are  ceaseless  sale  and  purchase,  packing  and 
unpacking,  lifting  up  and  laying  down,  arriving 
and  departing  loads  ;  in  thousands  of  shops  is 
the  unspared  and  unsparing  weariness  of  sell- 


TJieir  Wedding  Journey 


ing ;  in  the  street,  filled  by  the  hurry  and  suffer- 
ing of  tens  of  thousands,  is  the  weariness  of 
buying. 

Their  afternoon's  experience  was  something 
that  Basil  and  Isabel   could,  when  it  was  past, 

look  upon  only  as  a  kind 
of  vision,  magnificent 
at  times,  and  at  other 
times  full  of  indignity 
and  pain.  They  seemed 
to  have  dreamed  of  a 
long  horse-car  pilgrim- 
age through  that  squa- 
lid street  by  the  river- 
side, where  presently 
they  came  to  a  market 
opening  upon  the  view 
hideous  vistas  of  car- 
nage, and  then  into  a 
wide  avenue,  with  pro- 
cessions of  cars  like 
their  own  coming  and 
going  up  and  down  the 
centre  of  a  foolish  and 
useless  breadth,  which 

made  even  the  tall  buildings  (rising  gauntly  up 
among  older  houses  of  one  or  two  stories)  on 
either  hand  look  low,  and  let  in  the  sun  to  bake 
the  dust  that  the  hot  breaths  of  wind  caught  up 


A  Hot  Sidewalk 


A  Midsummer-Days  Dream  57 

and  sent  swirling  into  the  shabby  shops.  Here 
they  dreamed  of  the  eternal  demolition  and 
construction  of  the  city,  and  farther  on  of  va- 
cant lots  full  of  granite  boulders,  clambered 
over  by  goats.  In  their  dream  they  had  fellow- 
passengers,  whose  sufferings  made  them  odious 
and  whom  they  were  glad  to  leave  behind  when 
they  alighted  from  the  car,  and  running  out  of 
the  blaze  of  the  avenue,  quenched  themselves 
in  the  shade  of  the  cross  street.  A  little  strip 
of  shadow  lay  along  the  row  of  brown-stone 
fronts,  but  there  were  intervals  where  the  va- 
cant lots  cast  no  shadow.  With  great  bestowal 
of  thought  they  studied  hopelessly  how  to 
avoid  these  spaces  as  if  they  had  been  difficult 
torrents  or  vast  expanses  of  desert  sand  ;  they 
crept  slowly  along  till  they  came  to  such  a 
place,  and  dashed  swiftly  across  it,  and  then, 
fainter  than  before,  moved  on.  They  seemed 
now  and  then  to  stand  at  doors,  and  to  be  told 
that  people  were  out,  and  again  that  they  were 
in ;  and  they  had  a  sense  of  cool  dark  parlors, 
and  the  airy  rustling  of  light-muslined  ladies,  of 
chat  and  of  fans  and  ice-water,  and  then  they 
came  forth  again  ;  and  evermore 

"  The  day  increased  from  heat  to  heat." 

At  last  they  were  aware  of  an  end  of  their 
visits,  and  of  a  purpose  to  go  down  town  again, 
and  of  seeking  the  nearest  car  by  endless  blocks 


58  Their  Wedding  Journey 


of  brown-stone  fronts,  which  with  their  eternal 
brown-stone  flights  of  steps,  and  their  hand- 
some, intolerable  uniformity,  oppressed  them 
like  a  procession  of  houses  trying  to  pass  a 
given  point  and  never  getting  by.  Upon  these 
streets  there  was  seldom  a  soul  to  be  seen,  so 
that  when  their  ringing  at  a  door  had  evoked 
answer,  it  had  startled  them  with  a  vague,  sad 
surprise.  In  the  distance  on  either  hand  they 
could  see  cars  and  carts  and  wagons  toiling 
up  and  down  the  avenues,  and  on  the  next 
intersecting  pavement  sometimes  a  laborer  with 
his  jacket  slung  across  his  shoulder,  or  a  dog 
that  had  plainly  made  up  his  mind  to  go  mad. 
Up  to  the  time  of  their  getting  into  one  of 
those  phantasmal  cars  for  the  return  down- 
townwards  they  had  kept  up  a  show  of  talk 
in  their  wretched  dream  ;  they  had  spoken  of 
other  hot  days  that  they  had  known  elsewhere  ; 
and  they  had  wondered  that  the  tragical  char- 
acter of  heat  had  been  so  little  recognized. 
They  said  that  the  daily  New  York  murder 
might  even  at  that  moment  be  somewhere  tak- 
ing place  ;  and  that  no  murder  of  the  whole 
homicidal  year  could  have  such  proper  circum- 
stance ;  they  morbidly  wondered  what  that  day's 
murder  would  be,  and  in  what  swarming  tene- 
ment-house, or  den  of  the  assassin  streets  by 
the  river-sides, — if  indeed  it  did  not  befall  in 


Cool,  Dark  Parlors 


A  Midsummer-Day's  Dream  61 

some  such  high,  close-shuttered,  handsome  dwell- 
ing as  those  they  passed,  in  whose  twilight  it 
would  be  so  easy  to  strike  down  the  master 
and  leave  him  undiscovered  and  unmourned 
by  the  family  ignorantly  absent  at  the  moun- 
tains or  the  seaside.  They  conjectured  of  the 
horror  of  midsummer  battles,  and  pictured  the 
anguish  of  shipwrecked  men  upon  a  tropical 
coast,  and  the  grimy  misery  of  stevedores  un- 
loading shiny  cargoes  of  anthracite  coal  at  city 
docks.  But  now  at  last,  as  they  took  seats 
opposite  one  another  in  the  crowded  car,  they 
seemed  to  have  drifted  infinite  distances  and 
long  epochs  asunder.  They  looked  hopelessly 
across  the  intervening  gulf,  and  mutely  ques- 
tioned when  it  was  and  from  what  far  city 
they  or  some  remote  ancestors  of  theirs  had 
set  forth  upon  a  wedding  journey.  They  bade 
each  other  a  tacit  farewell,  and  with  patient, 
pathetic  faces  awaited  the  end  of  the  world. 

When  they  alighted,  they  took  their  way  up 
through  one  of  the  streets  of  the  great  whole- 
sale businesses,  to  Broadway.  On  this  street 
was  a  throng  of  trucks  and  wagons  lading  and 
unlading  ;  bales  and  boxes  rose  and  sank  by 
pulleys  overhead ;  the  footway  was  a  labyrinth 
of  packages  of  every  shape  and  size  :  there  was 
no  flagging  of  the  pitiless  energy  that  moved  all 
forward,  no  sign  of  how  heavy  a  weight  lay  on 


62  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 

it,  save  in  the  reeking  faces  of  its  helpless 
instruments.  But  when  the  wedding-journeyers 
emerged  upon  Broadway,  the  other  passages 
and  incidents  of  their  dream  faded  before  the 
superior  fantasticality  of  the  spectacle.  It  was 
four  o'clock,  the  deadliest  hour  of  the  deadly 
summer  day.  The  spiritless  air  seemed  to  have 
a  quality  of  blackness  in  it,  as  if  filled  with  the 
gloom  of  low-hovering  wings.  One  half  the 
street  lay  in  shadow,  and  one  half  in  sun ;  but 
the  sunshine  itself  was  dim,  as  if  a  heat  greater 
than  its  own  had  smitten  it  with  languor. 
Little  gusts  of  sick,  warm  wind  blew  across  the 
great  avenue  at  the  corners  of  the  intersecting 
streets.  In  the  upward  distance,  at  which  the 
journeyers  looked,  the  loftier  roofs  and  steeples 
lifted  themselves  dim  out  of  the  livid  atmos- 
phere, and  far  up  and  down  the  length  of  the 
street  swept  a  stream  of  tormented  life.  All 
sorts  of  wheeled  things  thronged  it,  conspicuous 
among  which  rolled  and  jarred  the  gaudily 
painted  stages,  with  quivering  horses  driven 
each  by  a  man  who  sat  in  the  shade  of  a 
branching  white  umbrella,  and  suffered  with  a 
moody  truculence  of  aspect,  and  as  if  he  har- 
bored the  bitterness  of  death  in  his  heart  for 
the  crowding  passengers  within,  when  one  of 
them  pulled  the  strap  about  his  legs,  and  sum- 
moned him  to  halt.  Most  of  the  foot-passen- 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream 


gers  kept  to  the  shady  side,  and  to  the  unaccus- 
tomed eyes  of  the  strangers  they  were  not  less 
in  number  than  at  any  other  time,  though  there 


/  cant  stand  this  much  longer 


were  fewer  women  among  them.  Indomitably 
resolute  of  soul,  they  held  their  course  with  the 
swift  pace  of  custom,  and  only  here  and  there 
they  showed  the  effect  of  the  heat.  One  man, 


64  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 

collarless,  with  waistcoat  unbuttoned,  and  hat 
set  far  back  from  his  forehead,  waved  a  fan 
before  his  death-white  flabby  face,  and  set  down 
one  foot  after  the  other  with  the  heaviness  of  a 
somnambulist.  Another,  as  they  passed  him, 
was  saying  huskily  to  the  friend  at  his  side,  "  I 
can't  stand  this  much  longer.  My  hands  tingle 
as  if  they  had  gone  to  sleep;  my  heart"  — 
But  still  the  multitude  hurried  on,  passing, 
repassing,  encountering,  evading,  vanishing 
into  shop-doors  and  emerging  from  them,  dis- 
persing down  the  side  streets,  and  swarming  out 
of  them.  It  was  a  scene  that  possessed  the 
beholder  with  singular  fascination,  and  in  its 
effect  of  universal  lunacy  it  might  well  have 
seemed  the  last  phase  of  a  world  presently  to 
be  destroyed.  They  who  were  in  it  but  not  of 
it,  as  they  fancied,  —  though  there  was  no  rea- 
son for  this,  —  looked  on  it  amazed,  and  at  last, 
their  own  errands  being  accomplished,  and 
themselves  so  far  cured  of  the  madness  of  pur- 
pose, they  cried  with  one  voice  that  it  was  a 
hideous  sight,  and  strove  to  take  refuge  from 
it  in  the  nearest  place  where  the  soda-fountain 
sparkled.  It  was  a  vain  desire.  At  the  front 
door  of  the  apothecary's  hung  a  thermometer, 
and  as  they  entered  they  heard  the  next  comer 
cry  out  with  a  maniacal  pride  in  the  affliction 
laid  upon  ^mankind,  "  Ninety-seven  degrees  ! " 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  65 

Behind  them  at  the  door  there  poured  in  a 
ceaseless  stream  of  people,  each  pausing  at  the 
shrine  of  heat,  before  he  tossed  off  the  hissing 
draught  that  two  pale,  close-clipped  boys  served 
them  from  either  side  of  the  fountain.  Then  in 
the  order  of  their  coming  they  issued  through 
another  door  upon  the  side  street,  each,  as  he 
disappeared,  turning  his  face  half  round,  and 
casting  a  casual  glance  upon  a  little  group  near 
another  counter.  The  group  was  of  a  very 
patient,  half-frightened,  half-puzzled  looking 
gentleman  who  sat  perfectly  still  on  a  stool,  and 
of  a  lady  who  stood  beside  him,  rubbing  all  over 
his  head  a  handkerchief  full  of  pounded  ice,  and 
easing  one  hand  with  the  other  when  the  first 
became  tired.  Basil  drank  his  soda  and  paused 
to  look  upon  this  group,  which  he  felt  would 
commend  itself  to  realistic  sculpture  as  emi- 
nently characteristic  of  the  local  life,  and  as 
"  The  Sunstroke  "  would  sell  enormously  in  the 
hot  season.  "  Better  take  a  little  more  of 
that,"  the  apothecary  said,  looking  up  from  his 
prescription,  and,  as  the  organized  sympathy  of 
the  seemingly  indifferent  crowd,  smiling  very 
kindly  at  his  patient,  who  thereupon  tasted 
something  in  the  glass  he  held.  "  Do  you  still 
feel  like  fainting  ? "  asked  the  humane  author- 
ity. "Slightly,  now  and  then,"  answered  the 
other,  "but  I  'm  hanging  on  hard  to  the  bottom 


66  Their  Wedding  Journey 


curve  of  that  icicled  S  on  your  soda-fountain, 
and  I  feel  that  I  'm  all  right  as  long  as  I  can 
see  that.  The  people  get  rather  hazy,  occasion- 
ally, and  have  no  features  to  speak  of.  But  I 
don't  know  that  I  look  very  impressive  myself," 
he  added  in  the  jesting  mood  which  seems  the 
natural  condition  of  Americans  in  the  face  of 
all  embarrassments. 

"  Oh,  you  '11  do  !  "  the  apothecary  answered, 
with  a  laugh  ;  but  he  said,  in  answer  to  an 
anxious  question  from  the  lady,  "He  mustn't 
be  moved  for  an  hour  yet,"  and  gayly  pestled 
away  at  a  prescription,  while  she  resumed  her 
office  of  grinding  the  pounded  ice  round  and 
round  upon  her  husband's  skull.  Isabel  offered 
her  the  commiseration  of  friendly  words,  and  of 
looks  kinder  yet,  and  then  seeing  that  they 
could  do  nothing,  she  and  Basil  fell  into  the 
endless  procession,  and  passed  out  of  the  side 
door. 

"  What  a  shocking  thing  !  "  she  whispered. 
"Did  you  see  how  all  the  people  looked,  one 
after  another,  so  indifferently  at  that  couple, 
and  evidently  forgot  them  the  next  instant  ? 
It  was  dreadful.  I  shouldn't  like  to  have  you 
sun-struck  in  New  York." 

"  That 's  very  considerate  of  you  ;  but  place 
for  place,  if  any  accident  must  happen  to  me 
among  strangers,  I  think  I  should  prefer  to 


A  Midsummer-Day  s  Dream  67 

have  it  in  New  York.  The  biggest  place  is 
always  the  kindest  as  well  as  the  crudest  place. 
Amongst  the  thousands  of  spectators  the  good 
Samaritan  as  well  as  the  Levite  would  be  sure 
to  be.  As  for  a  sun-stroke,  it  requires  peculiar 
gifts.  But  if  you  compel  me  to  a  choice  in  the 
matter,  then  I  say,  give  me  the  busiest  part  of 
Broadway  for  a  sun-stroke.  There  is  such  expe- 
rience of  calamity  there  that  you  could  hardly 
fall  the  first  victim  to  any  misfortune.  Prob- 
ably the  gentleman  at  the  apothecary's  was 
merely  exhausted  by  the  heat,  and  ran  in  there 
for  revival.  The  apothecary  has  a  case  of  the 
kind  on  his  hands  every  blazing  afternoon,  and 
knows  just  what  to  do.  The  crowd  may  be 
a  little  ennuyt  of  sun-strokes,  and  to  that  degree 
indifferent,  but  they  most  likely  know  that  they 
can  only  do  harm  by  an  expression  of  sympathy, 
and  so  they  delegate  their  pity,  as  they  have 
delegated  their  helpfulness,  to  the  proper  au- 
thority, and  go  about  their  business.  If  a  man 
was  overcome  in  the  middle  of  a  village  street, 
the  blundering  country  druggist  would  n't  know 
what  to  do,  and  the  tender-hearted  people  would 
crowd  about  so  that  no  breath  of  air  could  reach 
the  victim." 

"  May  be  so,  dear,"  said  the  wife  pensively  ; 
"but.  if  anything  did  happen  to  you  in  New 
York,  I  should  like  to  have  the  spectators  look 


68  Their  Wedding  Journey 

as  if  they  saw  a  human  being  in  trouble.     Per- 
haps I  'm  a  little  exacting." 

"  I  think  you  are.  Nothing  is  so  hard  as  to 
understand  that  there  are  human  beings  in  this 
world  besides  one's  self  and  one's  set.  But  let 
us  be  selfishly  thankful  that  it  is  n't  you  and  I 
there  in  the  apothecary's  shop,  as  it  might  very 
well  be ;  and  let  us  get  to  the  boat  as  soon  as 
we  can,  and  end  this  horrible  midsummer-day's 
dream.  We  must  have  a  carriage,"  he  added 
with  tardy  wisdom,  hailing  an  empty  hack,  "  as 
we  ought  to  have  had  all  day  ;  though  I  'm  not 
sorry,  now  the  worst 's  over,  to  have  seen  the 
worst." 


Ill 

THE   NIGHT    BOAT 

THERE  is  little  proportion  about  either  pain 
or  pleasure  :  a  headache  darkens  the  universe 
while  it  lasts,  a  cup  of  tea  really  lightens  the 
spirit  bereft  of  all  reasonable  consolations. 
Therefore  I  do  not  think  it  trivial  or  untrue  to 
say  that  there  is  for  the  moment  nothing  more 
satisfactory  in  life  than  to  have  bought  your 
ticket  on  the  night  boat  up  the  Hudson  and 
secured  your  stateroom  key  an  hour  or  two 
before  departure,  and  some  time  even  before 
the  pressure  at  the  clerk's  office  has  begun. 
In  the  transaction  with  this  castellated  baron, 
you  have  of  course  been  treated  with  haughti- 
ness, but  not  with  ferocity,  and  your  self-respect 
swells  with  a  sense  of  having  escaped  positive 
insult ;  your  key  clicks  cheerfully  in  your  pocket 
against  its  gutta-percha  number,  and  you  walk 
up  and  down  the  gorgeously  carpeted,  single- 
columned,  two-story  cabin,  amid  a  multitude  of 
plush  sofas  and  chairs,  a  glitter  of  glass,  and  a 
tinkle  of  prismatic  chandeliers  overhead,  unawed 
even  by  the  aristocratic  gloom  of  the  yellow 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


waiters.  Your  own  stateroom,  as  you  enter  it 
from  time  to  time,  is  an  ever-new  surprise  of 
splendors,  a  magnificent  effect  of  amplitude,  of 
mahogany  bedstead,  of  lace  curtains,  and  of  mar- 
ble-topped wash-stand. 
In  the  mere  wanton- 
ness of  an  unalloyed 
prosperity  you  say  to 
the  saffron  nobleman 
nearest  your  door, 
"  Bring  me  a  pitcher 
of  ice  -  water,  quick, 
please !  "  and  you  do 
not  find  the  half-hour 
that  he  is  gone  very 
long. 

If  the  ordinary  way- 
farer experiences  s  o 
much  pleasure  from 
these  things,  then  im- 
agine the  infinite  com- 
fort of  our  wedding- 
journeyers,  trans- 
ported from  Broadway  on  that  pitiless  afternoon 
to  the  shelter  and  the  quiet  of  that  absurdly 
palatial  steamboat.  It  was  not  yet  crowded, 
and  by  the  river-side  there  was  almost  a  fresh- 
ness in  the  air.  They  disposed  of  their  troubling 
bags  and  packages  ;  they  complimented  the  ridic- 


Your  own  Stateroom 


The  Night  Boat 


ulous  princeliness  of  their  stateroom,  and  then 
they  betook  themselves  to  the  sheltered  space 
aft  of  the  saloon,  where  they  sat  down  for  the 


A  Sheltered  Space  aft  of  the  Saloon. 

tranquiller  observance  of  the  wharf  and  what- 
ever should  come  to  be  seen  by  them.  Like 
all  people  who  have  just  escaped  with  their 
lives  from  some  menacing  calamity,  they  were 
very  philosophical  in  spirit;  and  having  got 
aboard  of  their  own  motion,  and  being  neither 


72  Their  Wedding-  Journey 

of  them  apparently  the  worse  for  the  ordeal 
they  had  passed  through,  were  of  a  light,  con- 
versational temper. 

"  What  an  amusingly  superb  affair !  "  Basil 
cried  as  they  glanced  through  an  open  window 
down  the  long  vista  of  the  saloon.  "  Good 
heavens  !  Isabel,  does  it  take  all  this  to  get 
us  plain  republicans  to  Albany  in  comfort  and 
safety,  or  are  we  really  a  nation  of  princes  in 
disguise  ?  Well,  I  shall  never  be  satisfied  with 
less  hereafter,"  he  added.  "I  am  spoilt  for 
ordinary  paint  and  upholstery  from  this  hour  ; 
I  am  a  ruinous  spendthrift,  and  a  humble  three- 
story  swell-front  up  at  the  South  End  is  no 
longer  the  place  for  me.  Dearest, 

" '  Let  us  swear  an  oath,  and  keep  it  with  an  equal  mind,' 

never  to  leave  this  Aladdin's-palace-like  steam- 
boat, but  spend  our  lives  in  perpetual  trips  up 
and  down  the  Hudson." 

To  which  not  very  costly  banter  Isabel  re- 
sponded in  kind,  and  rapidly  sketched  the  life 
they  could  lead  aboard.  Since  they  could  not 
help  it,  they  mocked  the  public  provision  which, 
leaving  no  interval  between  disgraceful  squalor 
and  ludicrous  splendor,  accommodates  our  dem- 
ocratic me'nage  to  the  taste  of  the  richest  and 
most  extravagant  plebeian  amongst  us.  He, 
unhappily,  minds  danger  and  oppression  as 


The  Night  Boat  73 


little  as  he  minds  money,  so  long  as  he  has 
a  spectacle  and  a  sensation,  and  it  is  this  ruth- 
less imbecile  who  will  have  lace  curtains  to  the 
steamboat  berth  into  which  he  gets  with  his 
pantaloons  on,  and  out  of  which  he  may  be 
blown  by  an  exploding  boiler  at  any  moment ; 
it  is  he  who  will  have  for  supper  that  overgrown 
and  shapeless  dinner  in  the  lower  saloon,  and 
will  not  let  any  one  else  buy  tea  or  toast  for 
a  less  sum  than  he  pays  for  his  surfeit  ;  it  is 
he  who  perpetuates  the  insolence  of  the  clerk 
and  the  reluctance  of  the  waiters  ;  it  is  he,  in 
fact,  who  now  comes  out  of  the  saloon,  with 
his  womenkind,  and  takes  chairs  under  the 
awning  where  Basil  and  Isabel  sit.  Personally, 
he  is  not  so  bad  ;  he  is  good-looking,  like  all 
of  us ;  he  is  better  dressed  than  most  of  us ; 
he  behaves  himself  quietly,  if  not  easily;  and 
no  lord  so  loathes  a  scene.  Next  year  he  is 
going  to  Europe,  where  he  will  not  show  to 
so  much  advantage  as  here ;  but  for  the  present 
it  would  be  hard  to  say  in  what  way  he  is 
vulgar,  and  perhaps  vulgarity  is  not  so  common 
a  thing  after  all. 

It  was  something  besides  the  river  that 
made  the  air  so  much  more  sufferable  than  it 
had  been.  Over  the  city,  since  our  friends 
had  come  aboard  the  boat,  a  black  cloud  had 
gathered  and  now  hung  low  upon  it,  while  the 


74 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


wind  from  the  face  of  the  water  took  the  dust 
in  the  neighboring  streets  and  frolicked  it 
about  the  house-tops,  and  in  the  faces  of  the 


A  rriving  Passengers 

arriving  passengers,  who,  as  the  moment  of 
departure  drew  near,  appeared  in  constantly 
increasing  numbers  and  in  greater  variety,  with 
not  only  the  trepidation  of  going  upon  them, 
but  also  with  the  electrical  excitement  people 


The  Night  Boat  75 

feel  before  a  tempest.  The  breast  of  the  black 
cloud  was  now  zigzagged  from  moment  to  mo- 
ment by  lightning,  and  claps  of  deafening 
thunder  broke  from  it.  At  last  the  long  endur- 
ance of  the  day  was  spent,  and  out  of  its  con- 
vulsion burst  floods  of  rain,  again  and  again 
sweeping  the  promenade-deck  where  the  people 
sat,  and  driving  them  disconsolate  into  the 
saloon.  The  air  was  darkened  as  by  night,  and 
with  many  regrets  for  the  vanishing  prospect, 
mingled  with  a  sense  of  relief  from  the  heat, 
our  friends  felt  the  boat  tremble  away  from  her 
moorings,  and  set  forth  upon  her  trip. 

"  Ah  !  if  we  had  only  taken  the  day  boat ! " 
moaned  Isabel.  "  Now,  we  shall  see  nothing 
of  the  river  landscape,  and  we  shall  never  be 
able  to  put  ourselves  down  when  we  long  for 
Europe,  by  declaring  that  the  scenery  of  the 
Hudson  is  much  finer  than  that  of  the  Rhine." 

Yet  they  resolved,  this  indomitably  good- 
natured  couple,  that  they  would  be  just  even  to 
the  elements,  which  had  by  no  means  been 
generous  to  them  ;  and  they  owned  that  if  so 
noble  a  storm  had  celebrated  their  departure 
upon  some  stoned  river  from  some  more  ro- 
mantic port  than  New  York,  they  would  have 
thaught  it  an  admirable  thing.  Even  whilst 
they  contented  themselves,  the  storm  passed, 
and  left  a  veiled  and  humid  sky  overhead,  that 


76 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


gave  a  charming  softness  to  the  scene  on  which 
their  eyes  fell  when  they  came  out  of  the  saloon 
again,  and  took  their  places  with  a  largely  in- 
creased companionship  on  the  deck. 

They  had  already  reached  that  part  of  the 
river  where  the  uplands  begin,  and  their  course 
was  between  stately  walls  of  rocky  steepness,  or 
wooded  slopes,  or  grassy  hollows,  the  scene  for- 

ever  losing  and  taking 
grand  and  lovely  shape. 
Wreaths  of  mist  hung 
about  the  tops  of  the 
loftier  headlands,  and 
long  shadows  draped 
their  sides.  As  the 
night  grew,  lights  twin- 
kled from  a  lonely  house 
here  and  there  in  the 
valleys  ;  a  swarm  of 
lamps  showed  a  town 
where  it  lay  upon  the  lap  or  at  the  foot  of  the 
hills.  Behind  them  stretched  the  great  gray 
river,  haunted  with  many  sails  ;  now  a  group  of 
canal  boats  grappled  together,  and,  having  an 
air  of  coziness  in  their  adventure  upon  this 
strange  current  out  of  their  own  sluggish  waters, 
drifted  out  of  sight ;  and  now  a  smaller  and 
slower  steamer,  making  a  laborious  show  of  keep- 
ing up,  was  passed,  and  reluctantly  fell  behind ; 


From  the  Deck 


The  Night  Boat  77 


along  the  water's  edge  rattled  and  hooted  the 
frequent  trains.  They  could  not  tell  at  any 
time  what  part  of  the  river  they  were  on,  and 
they  could  not,  if  they  would,  have  made  its 
beauty  a  matter  of  conscientious  observation  ; 
but  all  the  more,  therefore,  they  deeply  enjoyed 
it  without  reference  to  time  or  place.  They  felt 
some  natural  pain  when  they  thought  that  they 
might  unwittingly  pass  the  scenes  that  Irving 
has  made  part  of  the  common  dream-land,  and 
they  would  fain  have  seen  the  lighted  windows 
of  the  house  out  of  which  a  cheerful  ray  has 
penetrated  to  so  many  hearts  ;  but  being  sure  of 
nothing,  as  they  were,  they  had  the  comfort  of 
finding  the  Tappan  Zee  in  every  expanse  of  the 
river,  and  of  discovering  Sunnyside  on  every 
pleasant  slope.  By  virtue  of  this  helplessness, 
the  Hudson,  without  ceasing  to  be  the  Hudson, 
became  from  moment  to  moment  all  fair  and 
stately  streams  upon  which  they  had  voyaged 
or  read  of  voyaging,  from  the  Nile  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi. There  is  no  other  travel  like  river 
travel ;  it  is  the  perfection  of  movement,  and 
one  might  well  desire  never  to  arrive  at  one's 
destination.  The  abundance  of  room,  the  free, 
pure  air,  the  constant  delight  of  the  eyes  in  the 
changing  landscape,  the  soft  tremor  of  the  boat 
so  steady  upon  her  keel,  the  variety  of  the  little 
world  on  board,  —  all  form  a  charm  which  no 


7  8  Their  Wedding  Journey 

good  heart  in  a  sound  body  can  resist.  So, 
whilst  the  twilight  held,  well  content,  in  con- 
tiguous chairs,  they  purred  in  flattery  of  their 
kindly  fate,  imagining  different  pleasures,  cer- 
tainly, but  none  greater,  and  tasting  to  its 
subtlest  flavor  the  happiness  conscious  of  itself. 

Their  own  satisfaction,  indeed,  was  so  inter- 
esting to  them  in  this  objective  light,  that  they 
had  little  desire  to  turn  from  its  contemplation 
to  the  people  around  them  ;  and  when  at  last 
they  did  so,  it  was  still  with  lingering  glances 
of  self-recognition  and  enjoyment.  They  di- 
vined rightly  that  one  of  the  main  conditions  of 
their  present  felicity  was  the  fact  that  they  had 
seen  so  much  of  time  and  of  the  world,  that 
they  had  no  longer  any  desire  to  take  beholding 
eyes,  or  to  make  any  sort  of  impressive  figure, 
and  they  understood  that  their  prosperous  love 
accounted  as  much  as  years  and  travel  for  this 
result.  If  they  had  had  a  loftier  opinion  of 
themselves,  their  indifference  to  others  might 
have  made  them  offensive ;  but  with  their 
modest  estimate  of  their  own  value  in  the 
world,  they  could  have  all  the  comfort  of  self- 
sufficiency,  without  its  vulgarity. 

"  Oh  yes ! "  said  Basil,  in  answer  to  some 
apostrophe  to  their  bliss  from  Isabel,  "  it 's  the 
greatest  imaginable  satisfaction  to  have  lived 
past  certain  things.  I  always  knew  that  I  was 


The  Night  Boat  79 

not  a  very  handsome  or  otherwise  captivating 
person,  but  I  can  remember  years  —  now 
blessedly  remote — when  I  never  could  see  a 
young  girl  without  hoping  she  would  mistake 
me  for  something  of  that  sort.  I  could  n't  help 
desiring  that  some  fascination  of  mine,  which 
had  escaped  my  own  analysis,  would  have  an 
effect  upon  her.  I  dare  say  all  young  men  are 
so.  I  used  to  live  for  the  possible  interest  I 
might  inspire  in  your  sex,  Isabel.  They  con- 
trolled my  movements,  my  attitudes;  they  for- 
bade me  repose ;  and  yet  I  believe  I  was  no  ass, 
but  a  tolerably  sensible  fellow.  Blessed  be 
marriage,  I  am  free  at  last  !  All  the  loveliness 
that  exists  outside  of  you,  dearest,  —  and  it 's 
mighty  little,  —  is  mere  pageant  to  me ;  and  I 
thank  Heaven  that  I  can  meet  the  most  stylish 
girl  now  upon  the  broad  level  of  our  common 
humanity.  Besides,  it  seems  to  me  that  our 
experience  of  life  has  quieted  us  in  many  other 
ways.  What  a  luxury  it  is  to  sit  here,  and 
reflect  that  we  do  not  want  any  of  these  people 
to  suppose  us  rich,  or  distinguished,  or  beauti- 
ful, or  well  dressed,  and  do  not  care  to  show  off 
in  any  sort  of  way  before  them  !  " 
,  This  content  was  heightened,  no  doubt,  by 
a  just  sense  of  their  contrast  to  the  group  of 
people  nearest  them,  —  a  young  man  of  the 
second  or  third  quality  and  two  young  girls. 


8o  Their  Wedding  Journey 

The  eldest  of  these  was  carrying  on  a  vivacious 
flirtation  with  the  young  man,  who  was  appar- 
ently an  acquaintance  of  brief  standing ;  the 
other  was  scarcely  more  than  a  child,  and  sat 
somewhat  abashed  at  the  sparkle  of  the  collo- 
quy. They  were  conjecturally  sisters  going 
home  from  some  visit,  and  not  skilled  in  the 
world,  but  of  a  certain  repute  in  their  country 
neighborhood  for  beauty  and  wit.  The  young 
man  presently  gave  himself  out  as  one  who,  in 
pursuit  of  trade  for  the  dry-goods  house  he 
represented,  had  traveled  many  thousands  of 
miles  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  encoun- 
ter was  visibly  that  kind  of  adventure  which 
both  would  treasure  up  for  future  celebration  to 
their  different  friends ;  and  it  had  a  brilliancy 
and  interest  which  they  could  not  even  now 
consent  to  keep  to  themselves.  They  talked  to 
each  other  and  at  all  the  company  within  hear- 
ing, and  exchanged  curt  speeches  which  had  for 
them  all  the  sensation  of  repartee. 

Young  Man.  They  say  that  beauty  un- 
adorned is  adorned  the  most. 

Young  Woman  (bridling,  and  twitching  her 
head  from  side  to  side,  in  the  high  excitement 
of  the  dialogue).  Flattery  is  out  of  place. 

Young  Man.  Well,  never  mind.  If  you 
don't  believe  me,  you  ask  your  mother  when 
you  get  home. 


The  Night  Boat  81 

(Titter  from  the  younger  sister.) 

Young  Woman  (scornfully).  Umph !  my 
mother  has  no  control  over  me  ! 

Young  Man.  Nobody  else  has,  either,  / 
should  say.  (Admiringly.) 

Young  Woman.  Yes,  you've  told  the  truth 
for  once,  for  a  wonder.  I  'm  able  to  take  care 
of  myself,  —  perfectly.  (Almost  hoarse  with  a 
sense  of  sarcastic  performance.) 

Young  Man.  "  Whole  team  and  big  dog 
under  the  wagon,"  as  they  say  out  West. 

Young  Woman.  Better  a  big  dog  than  a 
puppy,  any  day. 

(Giggles  and  horror  from  the  younger  sister, 
sensation  in  the  young  man,  and  so  much  rap- 
ture in  the  young  woman  that  she  drops  the 
key  of  her  stateroom  from  her  hand.  They 
both  stoop,  and  a  jocose  scuffle  for  it  ensues, 
after  which  the  talk  takes  an  autobiographical 
turn  on  the  part  of  the  young  man,  and  drops 
into  an  unintelligible  murmur.  Ah  !  poor  Real 
Life,  which  I  love,  can  I  make  others  share  the 
delight  I  find  in  thy  foolish  and  insipid  face  ?) 

Not  far  from  this  group  sat  two  Hebrews,  one 
young  and  the  other  old,  talking  of  some  busi- 
ness out  of  which  the  latter  had  retired.  The 
younger  had  been  asked  his  opinion  upon  some 
point,  and  he  was  expanding  with  a  flattered 
consciousness  of  the  elder's  perception  of  his 


82  Their  Wedding  Journey 

importance,  and  toadying  to  him  with  the  plea- 
sure which  all  young  men  feel  in  winning  the 
favor  of  seniors  in  their  vocation.  "  Well,  as  I 
was  a-say'n',  Isaac  don't  seem  to  haf  no  natch- 
eral  pent  for  the  glothing  business.  Man  gomes 
in  and  wands  a  goat,"  —  he  seemed  to  be  speak- 
ing of  a  garment  and  not  a  domestic  animal,  — 
"  Isaac  11  zell  him  the  goat  he  wands  him  to  puy, 
and  he  '11  make  him  believe  it 's  the  goat  he  was 
a-lookin'  for.  Well,  now,  that 's  well  enough  as 
far  as  it  goes  ;  but  yon  know  and  /  know,  Mr. 
Rosenthal,  that  that 's  no  way  to  do  business. 
A  man  gan't  zugzeed  that  goes  upon  that  brin- 
cible.  Id  's  wrong.  Id  's  easy  enough  to  make 
a  man  puy  the  goat  you  want  him  to,  if  he 
wands  a  goat,  but  the  thing  is  to  make  him  puy 
the  goat  that  yon  wand  to  zell  when  he  dont 
wand  no  goat  at  all.  You  've  asked  me  what  I 
thought  and  I  've  dold  you.  Isaac  '11  never  zug- 
zeed in  the  redail  glothing-business  in  the 
world  ! " 

"  Well,"  sighed  the  elder,  who  filled  his  arm- 
chair quite  full,  and  quivered  with  a  comfortable 
jelly-like  tremor  in  it,  at  every  pulsation  of  the 
engine,  "  I  was  afraid  of  something  of  the  kind. 
As  you  say,  Benjamin,  he  don't  seem  to  have 
no  pent  for  it.  And  yet  I  proughd  him  up  to 
the  business ;  I  drained  him  to  it,  myself." 

Besides  these   talkers,  there   were   scattered 


The  Night  Boat  83 

singly,  or  grouped  about  in  twos  and  threes  and 
fours,  the  various  people  one  encounters  on 
a  Hudson  River  boat,  who  are  on  the  whole 
different  from  the  passengers  on  other  rivers, 
though  they  all  have  features  in  common. 
There  was  that  man  of  the  sudden  gains,  who 
has  already  been  typified ;  and  there  was  also 
the  smoother  rich  man  of  inherited  wealth,  from 
whom  you  can  somehow  know  the  former  so 
readily.  They  were  each  attended  by  their  sev- 
eral retinues  of  womankind,  the  daughters  all 
much  alike,  but  the  mothers  somewhat  differ- 
ent. They  were  going  to  Saratoga,  where  per- 
haps the  exigencies  of  fashion  would  bring  them 
acquainted,  and  where  the  blue  blood  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century  would  be  kind  to  the  yes- 
terday's fluid  of  warmer  hue.  There  was  some- 
thing pleasanter  in  the  face  of  the  hereditary 
aristocrat,  but  not  so  strong,  nor,  altogether,  so 
admirable ;  particularly  if  you  reflected  that  he 
really  represented  nothing  in  the  world,  no 
great  culture,  no  political  influence,  no  civic 
aspiration,  not  even  a  pecuniary  force,  nothing 
but  a  social  set,  an  alien  club-life,  a  tradition  of 
dining.  We  live  in  a  true  fairy-land  after  all, 
where  the  hoarded  treasure  turns  to  a  heap  of 
dry  leaves.  The  almighty  dollar  defeats  itself, 
and  finally  buys  nothing  that  a  man  cares  to 
have.  The  very  highest  pleasure  that  such  an 


84 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


American's  money  can  purchase  is  exile,  and  to 
this  rich  man  doubtless  Europe  is  a  twice-told 
tale.  Let  us  clap  our  empty  pockets,  dearest 
reader,  and  be  glad. 

We  can  be  as  glad,  apparently,  and  with  the 
same  reason,  as  the 
poorly  dressed  young 
man  standing  near  be- 
side the  guard,  whose 
face  Basil  and  Isabel 
chose  to  fancy  that  of  a 
poet,  and  concerning 
whom  they  romanced 
that  he  was  going  home, 
wherever  his  home  was, 
with  the  manuscript  of 
a  rejected  book  in  his 
pocket.  They  imagined 
him  no  great  things  of 
a  poet,  to  be  sure,  but 
his  pensive  face  claimed 


The  Poorly  Dressed  Young  Man 


delicate  feeling  for  him, 
and  a  graceful,  sombre 
fancy,  and  they  conjectured  unconsciously  caught 
flavors  of  Tennyson  and  Browning  in  his  verse, 
with  a  moderner  tint  from  Morris,  for  was  it 
not  a  story  out  of  mythology,  with  gods  and  he- 
roes of  the  nineteenth  century,  that  he  was 
now  carrying  back  from  New  York  with  him  ? 


The  Night  Boat  85 


Basil  sketched  from  the  colors  of  his  own  long- 
accepted  disappointments  a  moving  little  picture 
of  this  poor  imagined  poet's  adventures  ;  with 
what  kindness  and  unkindness  he  had  been  put 
to  shame  by  publishers,  and  how,  descending 
from  his  high  hopes  of  a  book,  he  had  tried  to 
sell  to  the  magazines  some  of  the  shorter  pieces 
out  of  the  "  And  other  Poems  "  which  were  to 
have  filled  up  the  volume.  "  He 's  going  back 
rather  stunned  and  bewildered  ;  but  it 's  some- 
thing to  have  tasted  the  city,  and  its  bitter  may 
turn  to  sweet  on  his  palate,  at  last,  till  he  finds 
himself  longing  for  the  tumult  that  he  abhors 
now.  Poor  fellow !  one  compassionate  cut- 
throat of  a  publisher  even  asked  him  to  lunch, 
being  struck,  as  we  are,  with  something  fine  in 
his  face.  I  hope  he 's  got  somebody  who 
believes  in  him,  at  home.  Otherwise  he'd  be 
more  comfortable,  for  the  present,  if  he  went 
over  the  railing  there." 

So  the  play  of  which  they  were  both  actors 
and  spectators  went  on  about  them.  Like  all 
passages  of  life,  it  seemed  now  a  grotesque 
mystery,  with  a  bluntly  enforced  moral,  now  a 
farce  of  the  broadest,  now  a  latent  tragedy 
folded  in  the  disguises  of  comedy.  All  the  ele- 
ments, indeed,  of  either  were  at  work  there,  and 
this  was  but  one  brief  scene  of  the  immense 
complex  drama  which  was  to  proceed  so 


86  Their  Wedding  Journey 


variously  in  such  different  times  and  places, 
and  to  have  its  denouement  only  in  eternity. 
The  contrasts  were  sharp :  each  group  had  its 
travesty  in  some  other ;  the  talk  of  one  seemed 
the  rude  burlesque,  the  bitter  satire  of  the 
next ;  but  of  all  these  parodies  none  was  so 
terribly  effective  as  the  two  women,  who  sat  in 
the  midst  of  the  company,  yet  were  somehow 
distinct  from  the  rest.  One  wore  the  deepest 
black  of  widowhood,  the  other  was  dressed  in 
bridal  white,  and  they  were  both  alike  awful  in 
their  mockery  of  guiltless  sorrow  and  guiltless 
joy.  They  were  not  old,  but  the  soul  of  youth 
was  dead  in  their  pretty,  lamentable  faces,  and 
ruin  ancient  as  sin  looked  from  their  eyes  ; 
their  talk  and  laughter  seemed  the  echo  of  an 
innumerable  multitude  of  the  lost  haunting  the 
world  in  every  land  and  time,  each  solitary  for- 
ever, yet  all  bound  together  in  the  unity  of  an 
imperishable  slavery  and  shame. 

What  a  stale  effect !  What  hackneyed  char- 
acters !  Let  us  be  glad  the  night  drops  her 
curtain  upon  the  cheap  spectacle,  and  shuts 
these  with  the  other  actors  from  our  view. 

Within  the  cabin,  through  which  Basil  and 
Isabel  now  slowly  moved,  there  were  numbers 
of  people  lounging  about  on  the  sofas,  in  various 
attitudes  of  talk  or  vacancy  ;  and  at  the  tables 
there  were  others  reading  "Lothair,"  a  new 


The  Night  Boat  87 


book  in  the  remote  epoch  of  which  I  write,  and 
a  very  fashionable  book  indeed.  There  was  in 
the  air  that  odor  of  paint  and  carpet  which  pre- 
vails on  steamboats  ;  the  glass  drops  of  the  chan- 
deliers ticked  softly  against  each  other,  as  the 
vessel  shook  with  her  respiration,  like  a  comfort- 
able sleeper,  and  imparted  a  delicious  feeling  of 
cosiness  and  security  to  our  travelers. 

A  few  hours  later  they  struggled  awake  at 
the  sharp  sound  of  the  pilot's  bell  signaling  the 
engineer  to  slow  the  boat.  There  was  a  mo- 
ment of  perfect  silence  ;  then  all  the  drops  of 
the  chandeliers  in  the  saloon  clashed  musically 
together ;  then  fell  another  silence  ;  and  at  last 
came  wild  cries  for  help,  strongly  qualified  with 
blasphemies  and  curses.  "  Send  out  a  boat !  " 
"  There  was  a  woman  aboard  that  steamboat !  " 
"  Lower  your  boats  !  "  "  Run  a  craft  right 
down,  with  your  big  boat !  "  "  Send  out  a  boat 
and  pick  up  the  crew !  "  The  cries  rose  and 
sank,  and  finally  ceased;  through  the  lattice 
of  the  stateroom  window  some  lights  shone 
faintly  on  the  water  at  a  distance. 

"Wait  here,  Isabel!"  said  her  husband. 
"  We  've  run  down  a  boat.  We  don't  seem 
hurt ;  but  I  '11  go  see.  I  '11  be  back  in  a 
minute." 

Isabel  had  emerged  into  a  world  of  dishabille, 
a  world  wildly  unbuttoned  and  unlaced,  where  it 


88  Their  Wedding  Journey 

was  the  fashion  for  ladies  to  wear  their  hair 
down  their  backs,  and  to  walk  about  in  their 
stockings,  and  to  speak  to  each  other  without 
introduction.  The  place  with  which  she  had 
felt  so  familiar  a  little  while  before  was  now 
utterly  estranged.  There  was  no  motion  of  the 
boat,  and  in  the  momentary  suspense  a  quiet 
prevailed,  in  which  those  grotesque  shapes 
of  disarray  crept  noiselessly  round  whispering 
panic-stricken  conjectures.  There  was  no  rush- 
ing to  and  fro,  nor  tumult  of  any  kind,  and 
there  was  not  a  man  to  be  seen,  for  apparently 
they  had  all  gone  like  Basil  to  learn  the  extent 
of  the  calamity.  A  mist  of  sleep  involved  the 
whole,  and  it  was  such  a  topsy-turvy  world  that 
it  would  have  seemed  only  another  dream-land, 
but  that  it  was  marked  for  reality  by  one  signal 
fact.  With  the  rest  appeared  the  woman  in 
bridal  white  and  the  woman  in  widow's  black, 
and  there,  amidst  the  fright  that  made  all  others 
friends,  and,  for  aught  that  most  knew,  in  the 
presence  of  death  itself,  these  two  moved  to- 
gether shunned  and  friendless. 

Somehow,  even  before  Basil  returned,  it  had 
become  known  to  Isabel  and  the  rest  that  their 
own  steamer  had  suffered  no  harm,  but  that  she 
had  struck  and  sunk  another  convoying  a  flotilla 
of  canal-boats,  from  which  those  alarming  cries 
and  curses  had  come.  The  steamer  was  now 


His  Midnight  Vigil. 


The  Night  Boat  91 


lying  by  for  the  small  boats  she  had  sent  out  to 
pick  up  the  crew  of  the  sunken  vessel. 

"Why,  I  only  heard  a  little  tinkling  of  the 
chandeliers,"  said  one  of  the  ladies.  "  Is  it 
such  a  very  slight  matter  to  run  down  another 
boat  and  sink  it  ? " 

She  appealed  indirectly  to  Basil,  who  an- 
swered lightly,  "  I  don't  think  you  ladies  ought 
to  have  been  disturbed  at  all.  In  running  over 
a  common  tow-boat  on  a  perfectly  clear  night 
like  this  there  should  have  been  no  noise  and 
no  perceptible  jar.  They  manage  better  on 
the  Mississippi,  and  both  boats  often  go  down 
without  waking  the  lightest  sleeper  on  board." 

The  ladies,  perhaps  from  a  deficient  sense  of 
humor,  listened  with  undisguised  displeasure  to 
this  speech.  It  dispersed  them,  in  fact  ;  some 
turned  away  to  bivouac  for  the  rest  of  the  night 
upon  the  armchairs  and  sofas,  while  others 
returned  to  their  rooms.  With  the  latter  went 
Isabel.  "  Lock  me  in,  Basil,"  she  said,  with  a 
bold  meekness,  "and  if  anything  more  happens 
don't  wake  me  till  the  last  moment."  It  was 
hard  to  part  from  him,  but  she  felt  that  his 
vigil  would  somehow  be  useful  to  the  boat,  and 
she  confidingly  fell  into  a  sleep  that  lasted  till 
daylight. 

Meantime,  her  husband,  on  whom  she  had 
tacitly  devolved  so  great  a  responsibility,  went 


92  Their  Wedding  Journey 

forward  to  the  promenade  in  front  of  the  saloon, 
in  hopes  of  learning  something  more  of  the 
catastrophe  from  the  people  whom  he  had 
already  found  gathered  there. 

A  large  part  of  the  passengers  were  still 
there,  seated  or  standing  about  in  earnest  col- 
loquy. They  were  in  that  mood  which  follows 
great  excitement,  and  in  which  the  feeblest- 
minded  are  sure  to  lead  the  talk.  At  such 
times  one  feels  that  a  sensible  frame  of  mind  is 
unsympathetic,  and,  if  expressed,  unpopular,  or 
perhaps  not  quite  safe ;  and  Basil,  warned  by 
his  fate  with  the  ladies,  listened  gravely  to  the 
voice  of  the  common  imbecility  and  incoherence. 

The  principal  speaker  was  a  tall  person,  wear- 
ing a  silk  traveling-cap.  He  had  a  face  of 
stupid  benignity  and  a  self-satisfied  smirk  ;  and 
he  was  formally  trying  to  put  at  his  ease,  and 
hopelessly  confusing,  the  loutish  youth  before 
him.  "  You  say  you  saw  the  whole  accident, 
and  you  're  probably  the  only  passenger  that 
did  see  it.  You  '11  be  the  most  important  wit- 
ness at  the  trial,"  he  added,  as  if  there  would 
ever  be  any  trial  about  it.  "  Now,  how  did  the 
tow-boat  hit  us  ? " 

"Well,  she  came  bows  on." 

"  Ah  !  bows  on,"  repeated  the  other,  with  great 
satisfaction  ;  and  a  little  murmur  of  "  Bows  on  !  " 
ran  round  the  listening  circle. 


The  Night  Boat 


93 


"That  is,"  added  the  witness,  "it  seemed  as 
if  we  struck  her  amidships,  and  cut  her  in  two, 
and  sunk  her." 

"Just  so,"  continued  the  examiner,  accepting 


Discussing  the  A  ccident 

the  explanation,  "bows  on.  Now  I  want  to 
ask  if  you  saw  our  captain  or  any  of  the  crew 
about?" 

"  Not   a   soul,"    said    the   witness,    with    the 
solemnity  of  a  man  already  on  oath. 


94  Their  Wedding  Journey 


"That  '11  do,"  exclaimed  the  other.  "This 
gentleman's  experience  coincides  exactly  with- 
my  own.  I  didn't  see  the  collision,  but  I  did 
see  the  cloud  of  steam  from  the  sinking  boat, 
and  I  saw  her  go  down.  There  wasn't  an  of- 
ficer to  be  found  anywhere  on  board  our  boat. 
I  looked  about  for  the  captain  and  the  mate 
myself,  and  could  n't  find  either  of  them  high 
or  low." 

"The  officers  ought  all  to  have  been  sitting 
here  on  the  promenade  deck,"  suggested  one 
ironical  spirit  in  the  crowd,  but  no  one  noticed 
him. 

The  gentleman  in  the  silk  traveling-cap  now 
took  a  chair,  and  a  number  of  sympathetic 
listeners  drew  their  chairs  about  him,  and 
then  began  an  interchange  of  experience,  in 
which  each  related  to  the  last  particular  all 
that  he  felt,  thought,  and  said,  and,  if  married, 
what  his  wife  felt,  thought,  and  said,  at  the 
moment  of  the  calamity.  They  turned  the 
disaster  over  and  over  in  their  talk,  and  rolled 
it  under  their  tongues.  Then  they  reverted  to 
former  accidents  in  which  they  had  been  con- 
cerned;, and  the  silk-capped  gentleman  told,  to 
the  common  admiration,  of  a  fearful  escape  of 
his,  on  the  Erie  Road,  from  being  thrown  down 
a  steep  embankment  fifty  feet  high  by  a  piece 
of  rock  that  had  fallen  on  the  track.  "Now 


The  Night  Boat  95 


just  see,  gentlemen,  what  a  little  thing,  humanly 
speaking,  life  depends  upon.  If  that  old  woman 
had  been  able  to  sleep,  and  hadn't  sent  that 
boy  down  to  warn  the  train,  we  should  have 
run  into  the  rock  and  been  dashed  to  pieces. 
The  passengers  made  up  a  purse  for  the  boy, 
and  I  wrote  a  full  account  of  it  to  the  papers." 

"Well,"  said  one  of  the  group,  a  man  in  a 
hard  hat,  "I  never  lie  down  on  a  steamboat 
or  a  railroad  train.  I  want  to  be  ready  for 
whatever  happens." 

The  others  looked  at  this  speaker  with  in- 
terest, as  one  who 'had  invented  a  safe  method 
of  travel. 

"  I  happened  to  be  up  to-night,  but  I  almost 
always  undress  and  go  to  bed,  just  as  if  I  were 
in  my  own  house,"  said  the  gentleman  of  the 
silk  cap.  I  don't  say  your  way  is  n't  the  best, 
but  that's  my  way." 

The  champions  of  the  rival  systems  debated 
their  merits  with  suavity  and  mutual  respect, 
but  they  met  with  scornful  silence  a  compro- 
mising spirit  who  held  that  it  was  better  to 
throw  off  your  coat  and  boots,  but  keep  your 
pantaloons  on.  Meanwhile,  the  steamer  was 
hanging  idle  upon  the  current,  against  which 
it  now  and  then  stirred  a  careless  wheel,  still 
waiting  for  the  return  of  the  small  boats.  Thin 
gray  clouds,  through  rifts  of  which  a  star  sparkled 


96  Their  Wedding  Journey 

keenly  here  and  there,  veiled  the  heavens  ;  shad- 
owy bluffs  loomed  up  on  either  hand  ;  in  a  hollow 
on  the  left  twinkled  a  drowsy  little  town ;  a 
.beautiful  stillness  lay  on  all. 

After  an  hour's  interval  a  shout  was  heard 
from  far  down  the  river ;  then  later  the  plash 
of  oars ;  then  a  cry  hailing  the  approaching 
boats,  and  the  answer,  "  All  safe !  "  Presently 
the  boats  had  come  alongside,  and  the  passen- 
gers crowded  down  to  the  guard  to  learn  the 
details  of  the  search.  Basil  heard  a  hollow, 
moaning,  gurgling  sound,  regular  as  that  of 
the  machinery,  for  some  note  of  which  he  mistook 
it.  "  Clear  the  gangway  there  !  "  shouted  a  gruff 
voice  ;  "  man  scalded  here  !  "  And  a  burden 
was  carried  by  from  which  fluttered,  with  its 
terrible  regularity,  that  utterance  of  mortal 
anguish. 

Basil  went  again  to  the  forward  promenade, 
and  sat  down  to  see  the  morning  come. 

The  boat  swiftly  ascended  the  current,  and 
presently  the  steeper  shores  were  left  behind, 
and  the  banks  fell  away  in  long  upward  sloping 
fields,  with  farmhouses  and  with  stacks  of 
harvest  dimly  visible  in  the  generous  expanses. 
By  and  by  they  passed  a  fisherman  drawing 
his  nets,  and  bending  from  his  boat,  there  near 
Albany,  N.  Y.,  in  the  picturesque  immortal 
attitudes  of  Raphael's  Galilean  fisherman  ;  and 


The  Night  Boat 


97 


now  a  flush  mounted  the  pale  face  of  the  east, 
and  through  the  dewy  coolness  of  the  dawn 
there  came,  more  to  the  sight  than  any  other 
sense,  a  vague  menace  of  heat.  But  as  yet 


ff.MT. 
Watching  for  the  Morning 

the  air  was  deliciously  fresh  and  sweet,  and 
Basil  bathed  his  weariness  in  it,  thinking  with 
a  certain  luxurious  compassion  of  the  scalded 
man,  and  how  he  was  to  fare  that  day.  This 
poor  wretch  seemed  of  another  order  of  beings, 


98  Their  Wedding  Journey 


as  the  calamitous  always  seem  to  the  happy, 
and  Basil's  pity  was  quite  an  abstraction  ;  which, 
again,  amused  and  shocked  him,  and  he  asked 
his  heart  of  bliss  to  consider  of  sorrow  a  little 
more  earnestly  as  the  lot  of  all  men,  and  not 
merely  of  an  alien  creature  here  and  there. 
He  dutifully  tried  to  imagine  another  issue 
to  the  disaster  of  the  night,  and  to  realize 
himself  suddenly  bereft  of  her  who  so  filled 
his  life.  He  bade  his  soul  remember  that,  in 
the  security  of  sleep,  Death  had  passed  them 
both  so  close  that  his  presence  might  well 
have  chilled  their  dreams,  as  the  iceberg  that 
grazes  the  ship  in  the  night  freezes  all  the 
air  about  it.  But  it  was  quite  idle  :  where  love 
was,  life  only  was ;  and  sense  and  spirit  alike 
put  aside  the  burden  that  he  would  have  laid 
upon  them ;  his  reverie  reflected  with  delicious 
caprice  the  looks,  the  tones,  the  movements  that 
he  loved,  and  bore,  him  far  away  from  the  sad 
images  that  he  had  invited  to  mirror  them- 
selves in  it. 


IV 

A    DAY'S    RAILROADING 

HAPPINESS  has  commonly  a  good  appetite ; 
and  the  thought  of  the  fortunately  ended  ad- 
ventures ol  the  night,  the  fresh  morning  air, 
and  the  content  of  their  own  hearts,  gifted  our 
friends,  by  the  time  the  boat  reached  Albany, 
with  a  wholesome  hunger,  so  that  they  debated 
with  spirit  the  question  of  breakfast  and  the 
best  place  of  breakfasting  in  a  city  which 
neither  of  them  knew,  save  in  the  most  fugitive 
and  sketchy  way. 

They  decided  at  last,  in  view  of  the  early 
departure  of  the  train,  and  the  probability  that 
they  would  be  more  hurried  at  a  hotel,  to  break- 
fast at  the  station,  and  thither  they  went  and 
took  places  at  one  of  the  many  tables  within, 
where  they  seemed  to  have  been  expected 
only  by  the  flies.  The  waitress  plainly  had 
not  looked  for  threm,  and  for  a  time  found  their 
presence  so  incredible  that  she  would  not  ac- 
knowledge the  rattling  that  Basil  was  obliged 
to  make  on  his  glass.  Then  it  appeared  that 
the  cook  would  not  believe  in  them,  and  he  did 


ioo  Their  Wedding  Journey 

not  send  them,  till  they  were  quite  faint,  the 
peppery  and  muddy  draught  which  impudently 
affected  to  be  coffee,  the  oily  slices  of  fugacious 
potatoes  slipping  about  in  their  shallow  dish 
and  skillfully  evading  pursuit,  the  pieces  of  beef 
that  simulated  steak,  the  hot,  greasy  biscuit, 
steaming  evilly  up  into  the  face  when  opened, 
and  then  soddening  into  masses  of  condensed 
dyspepsia. 

The  wedding-] ourneyers  looked  at  each  other 
with  eyes  of  sad  amaze.  They  bowed  them- 
selves for  a  moment  to  the  viands,  and  then  by 
an  equal  impulse  refrained.  They  were  suffi- 
ciently young,  they  were  happy,  they  were  hun- 
gry;  nature  is  great  and  strong,  but  art  is 
greater,  and  before  these  triumphs  of  the  cook 
at  the  Albany  depot  appetite  succumbed.  By  a 
terrible  tour  de  force  they  swallowed  the  fierce 
and  turbid  liquor  in  their  cups,  and  then  specu- 
lated fantastically  upon  the  character  and  his- 
tory of  the  materials  of  that  breakfast. 

Presently  Isabel  paused,  played  a  little  with 
her  knife,  and,  after  a  moment,  looked  up  at 
her  husband  with  an  arch  regard  and  said :  "  I 
was  just  thinking  of  a  small  station  somewhere 
in  the  south  of  France  where  our  train  once 
stopped  for  breakfast.  I  remember  the  fresh- 
ness and  brightness  of  everything  on  the  little 
tables,  —  the  plates,  the  napkins,  the  gleaming 


A  Days  Railroading  101 

half-bottles  of  wine.  They  seemed  to  have 
been  preparing  that  breakfast  for  us  from  the 
beginning  of  time,  and  we  were  hardly  seated 
before  they  served  us  with  great  cups  of  cafe- 
an-lait,  and  the  sweetest  rolls  and  butter  ;  then 
a  delicate  cutlet,  with  an  unspeakable  gravy,  and 
potatoes,  —  such  potatoes  !  Dear  me,  how  little 
I  ate  of  it !  I  wish,  for  once,  I  'd  had  your  ap- 
petite, Basil;  I  do  indeed." 

She  ended  with  a  heartless  laugh,  in  which, 
despite  the  tragical  contrast  her  words  had 
suggested,  Basil  finally  joined.  So  much  amaze- 
ment had  probably  never  been  got  before  out 
of  the  misery  inflicted  in  that  place  ;  but  their 
lightness  did  not  at  all  commend  them.  The 
waitress  had  not  liked  it  from  the  first,  and 
had  served  them  with  reluctance ;  and  the  pro- 
prietor did  not  like  it,  and  kept  his  eye  upon 
them  as  if  he  believed  them  about  to  escape 
without  payment.  Here,  then,  they  had  en- 
forced a  great  fact  of  traveling, — that  people 
who  serve  the  public  are  kindly  and  pleasant  in 
proportion  as  they  serve  it  well.  The  unjust 
and  the  inefficient  have  always  that  conscious- 
ness of  evil  which  will  not  let  a  man  forgive  his 
victim,  or  like  him  to  be  cheerful. 

Our  friends,  however,  did  not  heat  themselves 
over  the  fact.  There  was  already  such  heat 
from  without,  even  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 


102  Their  Wedding  Journey 

ing,  that  they  chose  to  be  as  cool  as  possible  in 
mind,  and  they  placidly  took  their  places  in  the 
train,  which  had  been  made  up  for  departure. 
They  had  deliberately  rejected  the  notion  of  a 
drawing-room  car  as  affording  a  less  varied 
prospect  of  humanity,  and  as  being  less  in  the 
spirit  of  ordinary  American  travel.  Now,  in 
reward,  they  found  themselves  quite  comfort- 
able in  the  common  passenger-car,  and  disposed 
to  view  the  scenery,  into  which  they  struck  an 
hour  after  leaving  the  city,  with  much  compla- 
cency. There  was  sufficient  draught  through 
the  open  window  to  make  the  heat  tolerable, 
and  the  great  brooding  warmth  gave  to  the 
landscape  the  charm  which  it  alone  can  impart. 
It  is  a  landscape  that  I  greatly  love  for  its  mild 
beauty  and  tranquil  picturesqueness,  and  it  is 
in  honor  of  our  friends  that  I  say  they  enjoyed 
it.  There  are  nowhere  any  considerable  hills, 
but  everywhere  generous  slopes  and  pleasant 
hollows  and  the  wide  meadows  of  a  grazing 
country,  with  the  pretty  brown  Mohawk  River 
rippling  down  through  all,  and  at  frequent  inter- 
vals the  life  of  the  canal,  now  near,  now  far 
away,  with  the  lazy  boats  that  seem  not  to  stir, 
and  the  horses  that  the  train  passes  with  a 
whirl,  and  leaves  slowly  stepping  forward  and 
swiftly  slipping  backward.  There  are  farms 
that  had  once,  or  still  have,  the  romance  to 


A  Days  Railroading 


103 


A    Glimpse  of  the  Canal 


them  of  being  Dutch 
farms,  —  if  there  is  any 
romance  in  that, — and 
one  conjectures  a  Dutch 
thrift  in  their  waving 
grass  and  grain.  Spaces 
of  woodland  here  and 
there  dapple  the  slopes, 
and  the  cosy  red  farm- 
houses repose  by  the  side 
of  their  capacious  red 
barns.  Truly,  there  is 
no  ground  on  which  to 
defend  the  idleness,  and  yet  as  the  train  strives 
furiously  onward  amid  these  scenes  of  fertility 
and  abundance,  I  like  in  fancy  to  loiter  behind 
it,  and  to  saunter  at  will  up  and  down  the  land- 
scape. I  stop  at  the  farm-yard  gates,  and  sit 
upon  the  porches  or  thresholds,  and  am  served 
with  cups  of  buttermilk  by  old  Dutch  ladies 
who  have  done  their  morning's  work  and  have 
leisure  to  be  knitting  or  sewing  ;  or,  if  there 
are  no  old  ladies,  with  decent  caps  upon  their 
gray  hair,  then  I  do  not  complain  if  the  drink 
is  brought  me  by  some  red  -  cheeked,  comely 
young  girl,  out  of  Washington  Irving's  pages, 
with  no  cap  on  her  golden  braids,  who  mirrors 
my  diffidence,  and  takes  an  attitude  of  pretty 
awkwardness  while  she  waits  till  I  have  done 


104  Their  Wedding  Journey 

drinking.  In  the  same  easily  contented  spirit, 
as  I  lounge  through  the  barn-yard,  if  I  find  the 
old  hens  gone  about  their  family  affairs,  I  do 
not  mind  a  meadow-lark's  singing  in  the  top  of 
the  elm-tree  beside  the  pump.  In  these  excur- 
sions the  watch-dogs  know  me  for  a  harmless 
person,  and  will  not  open  their  eyes  as  they  lie 
coiled  up  in  the  sun  before  the  gate.  At  all  the 
places,  I  have  the  people  keep  bees,  and,  in  the 
garden  full  of  worthy  pot-herbs,  such  idlers  in 
the  vegetable  world  as  hollyhocks  and  larkspurs 
and  four-o'clocks,  near  a  great  bed  in  which  the 
asparagus  has  gone  to  sleep  for  the  season  with 
a  dream  of  delicate  spray  hanging  over  it.  I  walk 
unmolested  through  the  farmer's  tall  grass,  and 
ride  with  him  upon  the  perilous  seat  of  his  volu- 
ble mowing-machine,  and  learn  to  my  heart's 
content  that  his  name  begins  with  Van,  and  that 
his  family  has  owned  that  farm  ever  since  the 
days  of  the  Patroon ;  which  I  dare  say  is  not 
true.  Then  I  fall  asleep  in  a  corner  of  the  hay- 
field,  and  wake  up  on  the  tow-path  of  the  canal 
beside  that  wonderfully  lean  horse,  whose  bones 
you  cannot  count  only  because  they  are  so 
many.  He  never  wakes  up,  but,  with  a  falter- 
ing under  lip  and  half-shut  eyes,  hobbles  stiffly 
on,  unconscious  of  his  anatomical  interest. 
The  captain  hospitably  asks  me  on  board,  with 
a  twist  of.  the  rudder  swinging  the  stern  of  the 


A  Days  Railroading  105 

boat  up  to  the  path,  so  that  I  can  step  on.  She 
is  laden  with  flour  from  the  valley  of  the  Gene- 
see,  and  may  have  started  on  her  voyage  shortly 
after  the  canal  was  made.  She  is  succinctly 
manned  by  the  captain,  the  driver,  and  the 
cook,  a  fiery-haired  lady  of  imperfect  temper; 
and  the  cabin,  which  I  explore,  is  plainly  fur- 
nished with  a  cook-stove  and  a  flask  of  whiskey. 
Nothing  but  profane  language  is  allowed  on 
board;  and  so,  in  a  life  of  wicked  jollity  and 
ease,  we  glide  imperceptibly  down  the  canal, 
un vexed  by  the  far-off  future  of  arrival. 

Such,  I  say,  are  my  own  unambitious  mental 
pastimes,  but  I  am  aware  that  less  superficial 
spirits  could  not  be  satisfied  with  them,,  and  I 
do  not  pretend  that  my  wedding- journeyers 
were  so.  They  cast  an  absurd  poetry  over  the 
landscape;  they  invited  themselves  to  be  re- 
minded of  passages  of  European  travel  by  it ; 
and  they  placed  villas  and  castles  and  palaces 
upon  all  the  eligible  building-sites.  Ashamed 
of  these  devices,  presently,  Basil  patriotically 
tried  to  reconstruct  the  Dutch  and  Indian  past 
of  the  Mohawk  Valley,  but  here  he  was  foiled 
by  the  immense  ignorance  of  his  wife,  who,  as 
a  true  American  woman,  knew  nothing  of  the 
history  of  her  own  country,  and  less  than 
nothing  of  the  barbarous  regions  beyond  the 
borders  of  her  native  province.  She  proved  a 


io6  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 

bewildering  labyrinth  of  error  concerning  the 
events  which  Basil  mentioned  ;  and  she  had  never 
even  heard  of  the  massacres  by  the  French  and 
Indians  at  Schenectady,  which  he  in  his  boy- 
hood had  known  so  vividly  that  he  was  scalped 
every  night  in  his  dreams,  and  woke  up  in  the 
morning  expecting  to  see  marks  of  the  toma- 
hawk on  the  head-board.  So,  failing  at  last  to 
extract  any  sentiment  from  the  scenes  without, 
they  turned  their  faces  from  the  window,  and 
looked  about  them  for  amusement  within  the 
car. 

It  was  in  all  respects  an  ordinary  earful  of  hu- 
man beings,  and  it  was  perhaps  the  more  worthy 
to  be  studied  on  that  account.  As  in  literature 
the  true  artist  will  shun  the  use  even  of  real 
events  if  they  are  of  an  improbable  character,  so 
the  sincere  observer  of  man  will  not  .desire  to 
look  upon  his  heroic  or  occasional  phases,  but 
will  seek  him  in  his  habitual  moods  of  vacancy 
and  tiresomeness.  To  me,  at  any  rate,  he  is  at 
such  times  very  precious ;  and  I  never  perceive 
him  to  be  so  much  a  man  and  a  brother  as  when 
I  feel  the  pressure  of  his  vast,  natural,  unaffected 
dullness.  Then  I  am  able  to  enter  confidently 
into  his  life  and  inhabit  there,  to  think  his  shal- 
low and  feeble  thoughts,  to  be  moved  by  his 
dumb,  stupid  desires,  to  be  dimly  illumined  by 
his  stinted  inspirations,  to  share  his  foolish  pre- 


A  Days  Railroading 


107 


judices,  to  practice  his  obtuse  selfishness.  Yes, 
it  is  a  very  amusing  world,  if  you  do  not  refuse 
to  be  amused  ;  and  our  friends  were  very  willing 
to  be  entertained. 
They  delighted  in 
the  precise,  thick- 
fingered  old  ladies 
who  bought  sweet 
apples  of  the  boys 
come  aboard  with 
baskets,  and  who 
were  so  long  in 
finding  the  right 
change  that  our 
travelers,  leaping 
in  thought  with  the 
boys  from  the  mov- 
ing train,  felt  that 
they  did  so  at  the 
peril  of  their  lives. 
Then  they  were  in- 
terested in  people 
who  went  out  and  found  their  friends  waiting 
for  them,  or  else  did  not  find  them,  and  wandered 
disconsolately  up  and  down  before  the  country 
stations,  carpet-bag  in  hand ;  in  women  who  came 
aboard,  and  were  awkwardly  shaken  hands  with 
or  sheepishly  kissed  by  those  who  hastily  got 
seats  for  them,  and  placed  their  bags  or  their 


A   Hurried  Good-by 


io8  Their  Wedding  Journey 

babies  in  their  laps,  and  turned  for  a  nod  at  the 
door  ;  in  young  ladies  who  were  seen  to  places 
by  young  men  (the  latter  seemed  not  to  care  if 
the  train  did  go  off  with  them),  and  then  threw 
up  their  windows  and  talked  with  girl-friends  on 
the  platform  without  till  the  train  began  to  move, 
and  at  last  turned  with  gleaming  eyes  and  moist 
red  lips,  and  panted  hard  in  the  excitement  of 
thinking  about  it,  and  could  not  calm  themselves 
to  the  dull  level  of  the  travel  around  them ;  in 
the  conductor,  coldly  and  inaccessibly  vigilant, 
as  he  went  his  rounds,  reaching  blindly  for  the 
tickets  with  one  hand  while  he  bent  his  head 
from  time  to  time,  and  listened  with  a  faint,  sar- 
castic smile  to  the  questions  of  passengers  who 
supposed  they  were  going  to  get  some  informa- 
tion out  of  him ;  in  the  train-boy,  who  passed 
through  on  his  many  errands  with  prize  candies, 
gum-drops,  pop-corn,  papers,  and  magazines,  and 
distributed  books  and  the  police  journals  with  a 
blind  impartiality,  or  a  prodigious  ignorance,  or 
a  supernatural  perception  of  character  in  those 
who  received  them. 

A  through  train  from  East  to  West  presents 
some  peculiar  features  as  well  as  the  traits  com- 
mon to  all  railway  travel  ;  and  our  friends  de- 
cided that  this  was  not  a  very  well-dressed  com- 
pany, and  would  contrast  with  the  people  on 
an  express  train  between  Boston  and  New  York 


A  Days  Railroading 


109 


to  no  better  advantage  than  these  would  show 
beside  the  average  passengers  between  London 
and  Paris.  And  it  seems  true  that  on  a  west- 
ering line  the  blacking  fades  gradually  from 
the  boots,  the  hat  softens  and  sinks,  the  coat 
loses  its  rigor  of  cut,  and  the  whole  person 
lounges  into  increasing  informality  of  costume. 
I  speak  of  the  undressf  ul  sex  alone  :  woman, 
wherever  she  is,  appears  in  the  last  attainable 
effects  of  fashion,  which  are 
now  all  but  telegraphic  and  uni- 
versal. But  most  of  the  passen- 
gers here  were  men,  and  they 
were  plainly  of  the  free-and- 
easy  West  rather  than  the  dap- 
per East.  They  wore  faces 
thoughtful  with  the  problem  of 
buying  cheap  and  selling  dear, 
and  they  could  be  known  by 
their  silence  from  the  loqua- 
cious, acquaintance  -  making 
way-travelers.  In  these,  the 
mere  coming  aboard  seemed  to  beget  an  ag- 
gressively confidential  mood.  Perhaps  they 
clutched  recklessly  at  any  means  of  relieving 
their  ennui;  or  they  felt  that  they  might  here 
indulge  safely  in  the  pleasures  of  autobiography, 
so  dear  to  all  of  us  ;  or  else,  in  view  of  the  many 
possible  catastrophes,  they  desired  to  leave 


The  Softening  Hat 


no 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


some  little  memory  of  themselves  behind.  At 
any  rate,  whenever  the  train  stopped,  the  wed- 
ding-jo urn  eyers  caught  fragments  of  the  per- 
sonal histories  of  their  fellow-passengers  which 
had  been  rehearsing  to  those  that  sat  next  the 
narrators.  It  was  no  more  than 
fair  that  these  should  some- 
what magnify  themselves,  and 
put  the  best  complexion  on 
their  actions  and  the  worst 
upon  their  sufferings ;  that  they 
should  all  appear  the  luckiest 
or  the  unluckiest,  the  healthiest 
or  the  sickest,  people  that  ever 
were,  and  should  all  have  made 
or  lost  the  most  money.  There 
was  a  prevailing  desire  among 
them  to  make  out  that  they 
came  from  or  were  going  to  some  very  large 
place  ;  and  our  friends  fancied  an  actual  morti- 
fication in  the  face  of  a  modest  gentleman  who 
got  out  at  Penelope  (or  some  other  insignificant 
classical  station,  in  the  ancient  Greek  and 
Roman  part  of  New  York  State),  after  having 
listened  to  the  life  of  a  somewhat  rustic-looking 
person  who  had  described  himself  as  belonging 
near  New  York  City. 

Basil    also   found    diversion    in    the    tender 
couples,  who  publicly  comported  themselves  as 


In  the  Fashion 


A  Days  Railroading 


in 


Buying  ckeaj. 


if  in  a  sylvan  solitude,  and,  as  it  had  been  on  the 
bank  of  some  umbrageous  stream,  far  from  the 
ken  of  envious  or  unsympa- 
thetic eyes,  reclined  upon  each 
other's  shoulders  and  slept  ; 
but  Isabel  declared  that  this 
behavior  was  perfectly  inde- 
cent. She  granted,  of  course, 
that  they  were  foolish,  inno- 
cent people,  who  meant  no 
offense,  and  did  not  feel  guilty 
of  an  impropriety,  but  she  said 
that  this  sort  of  thing  was  a 
national  reproach.  If  it  were  merely  rustic 
lovers,  she  should  not  care  so  much  ;  but  you 
saw  people  who  ought  to  know  better,  well- 
dressed,  stylish  people,  flaunting  their  devotion 
in  the  face  of  the  world, 
and  going  to  sleep  on  each 
other's  shoulders  on  every 
railroad  train.  It  was  out- 
rageous, it  was  scandalous, 
it  was  really  infamous. 
Before  she  would  allow  her- 
self to  do  such  a  thing,  she 
would  —  well,  she  hardly 
knew  what  she  would  not 
do  ;  she  would  have  a  divorce,  at  any  rate.  She 
wondered  that  Basil  could  laugh  at  it ;  and  he 
would  make  her  hate  him  if  he  kept  on. 


Selling  dear 


112 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


From  the  seat  behind    their  own  they  were 
now   made   listeners   to   the   history   of   a   ten 

weeks'  typhoid  fever, 
from  the  moment 
when  the  narrator  no- 
ticed that  he  had  not 
felt  very  well  for  a 
day  or  two  back,  and 
all  at  once  a  kind  of 
shiver  took  him,  till 
he  lay  fourteen  days 
perfectly  insensible, 
and  could  eat  nothing 
but  a  little  pounded 
ice  —  and  his  wife  — 
a  small  woman,  too  — 
used  to  lift  him  back 
and  forth  between  the 
bed  and  sofa  like  a  feather,  and  the  neighbors 
did  not  know  half  the  time  whether  he  was 
dead  or  alive.  This  history,  from  which  not 
the  smallest  particular  or  the  least  significant 
symptom  of  the  case  was  omitted,  occupied  an 
hour  in  recital,  and  was  told,  as  it  seemed,  for 
the  entertainment  of  one  who  had  been  five 
minutes  before  it  began  a  stranger  to  the  histo- 
rian. 

At  last  the  train  came  to  a  stand,  and  Isabel 
wailed  forth  in  accents  of  desperation  the  words, 


Scraping  A  cquaintance 


A  Days  Railroading' 


"  Oh,  disgusting  !  "  The  monotony  of  the  narra- 
tive in  the  seat  behind,  fatally  combining  with 
the  heat  of  the  day,  had  lulled  her  into  slumbers 
from  which  she  awoke  at  the  stopping  of  the 
train,  to  find  her  head  resting  tenderly  upon  her 
husband's  shoulder. 

She  confronted  his  merriment  with  eyes  of 
mournful  rebuke ;  but  as  she  could  not  find 
him,  by  the  harshest  construction,  in  the  least 
to  blame,  she  was  silent. 

"Never  mind,  dear,  never  mind,"  he  coaxed, 
"you  were  really  not  responsible.  It  was 
fatigue,  destiny,  the  spite  of  fortune, — what- 
ever you  like.  In  the  case  of  the  others,  whom 
you  despise  so  justly, 
I  dare  say  it  is  sheer 
disgraceful  affection. 
But  see  that  ravishing 
placard,  swinging  from 
the  roof  :  (  This  train 
stops  twenty  minutes 
for  dinner  at  Utica.' 
In  a  few  minutes  more 
we  shall  be  at  Utica, 
If  they  have  anything 
edible  there,  it  shall  never  contract  my  powers. 
I  could  dine  at  the  Albany  station,  even." 

In  a  little  while  they  found  themselves  in  an 
airy,  comfortable  dining-room,  eating  a  dinner 


Imaginary  Solitude 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


"  Oh,  disgusting  I  " 

which  it  seemed  to  them  France,  in  the  flush  of 
her'  prosperity,  need  not  have  blushed  to  serve ; 
for  if  it  wanted  a  little  in  the  last  graces  of  art, 
it  redeemed  itself  in  abundance,  variety,  and 
wholesomeness.  At  the  elbow  of  every  famish- 
ing passenger  stood  a  beneficent  coal-black 


A  Days  Railroading  115 


glossy  fairy,  in  a  white  linen  apron  and  jacket, 
serving  him  with  that  alacrity  and  kindliness 
and  grace  which  make  the  negro  waiter  the 
master,  not  the  slave,  of  his  calling,  which  disen- 
thrall it  of  servility,  and  constitute  him  your 
eager  host,  not  your  menial,  for  the  moment. 
From  table  to  table  passed  a  calming  influence 
in  the  person  of  the  proprietor,  who,  as  he  took 
his  richly  earned  money,  checked  the  rising 
fears  of  the  guests  by  repeated  proclamations 
that  there  was  plenty  of  time,  and  that  he 
would  give  them  due  warning  before  the  train 
started.  Those  who  had  flocked  out  of  the  cars, 
to  prey  with  beak  and  claw,  as  the  vulture-like 
fashion  is,  upon  everything  in  reach,  remained 
to  eat  like  Christians  ;  and  even  a  poor,  scantily- 
Englished  Frenchman,  who  wasted  half  his 
time  in  trying  to  ask  how  long  the  cars  stopped 
and  in  looking  at  his  watch,  made  a  good  din- 
ner in  spite  of  himself. 

"O  Basil,  Basil,"  cried  Isabel,  when  the  train 
was  again  in  motion,  "  have  we  really  dined 
once  more?  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true. 
Cleanliness,  plenty,  wholesomeness,  civility  ! 
Yes,  as  you  say,  they  cannot  be  civil  where 
they  are  not  just  ;  honesty  and  courtesy  go 
together;  and  wherever  they  give  you  outra- 
geous things  to  eat,  they  add  indigestible  in- 
sult. Basil,  dear,  don't  be  jealous.  I  shall  never 


n6  Their  Wedding  Journey 

meet  him  again  ;  but  I  'm  in  love  with  that 
black  waiter  at  our  table.  I  never  saw  such 
perfect  manners,  such  a  winning  and  affection- 
ate politeness.  He  made  me  feel  that  every 
mouthful  I  ate  was  a  personal  favor  to  him. 
What  a  complete  gentleman !  There  ought 
never  to  be  a  white  waiter.  None  but  negroes 
are  able  to  render  their  service  a  pleasure  and 
distinction  to  you." 

So  they  prattled  on,  doing,  in  their  eagerness 
to  be  satisfied,  a  homage  perhaps  beyond  its 
desert  to  the  good  dinner  and  the  decent  ser- 
vice of  it.  But  here  they  erred  in  the  right 
direction,  and  I  find  nothing  more  admirable 
in  their  behavior  throughout  a  wedding  journey 
which  certainly  had  its  trials,  than  their  willing- 
ness to  make  the  very  best  of  whatever  would 
suffer  itself  to  be  made  anything  at  all  of. 
They  celebrated  its  pleasures  with  magnanimous 
excess,  they  passed  over  its  griefs  with  a  wise 
forbearance.  That  which  they  found  the  most 
difficult  of  management  was  the  want  of  inci- 
dent for  the  most  part  of  the  time  ;  and  I  who 
write  their  history  might  also  sink  under  it,  but 
that  I  am  supported  by  the  fact  that  it  is  so 
typical  in  this  respect.  I  even  imagine  that 
ideal  reader  for  whom  one  writes  as  yawning 
over  these  barren  details  with  the  lifelike  weari- 
ness of  an  actual  traveling  companion  of  theirs. 


A  Day  s  Railroading  117 

Their  own  silence  often  sufficed  my  wedded 
lovers,  or  then,  when  there  was  absolutely  no- 
thing to  engage  them,  they  fell  back  upon  the 
story  of  their  love,  which  they  were  never  tired 
of  hearing  as  they  severally  knew  it.  Let  it 
not  be  a  reproach  to  human  nature  or  to  me  if 
I  say  that  there  was  something  in  the  comfort 
of  having  well  dined  which  now  touched  the 
springs  of  sentiment  with  magical  effect,  and 
that  they  had  never  so  rejoiced  in  these  tender 
reminiscences. 

They  had  planned  to  stop  over  at  Rochester 
till  the  morrow,  that  they  might  arrive  at 
Niagara  by  daylight,  and  at  Utica  they  had 
suddenly  resolved  to  make  the  rest  of  the  day's 
journey  in  a  drawing-room  car.  The  change 
gave  them  an  added  reason  for  content  ;  and 
they  realized  how  much  they  had  previously 
sacrificed  to  the  idea  of  traveling  in  the  most 
American  manner,  without  achieving  it  after 
all,  for  this  seemed  a  touch  of  Americanism 
beyond  the  old-fashioned  car.  They  reclined 
in  luxury  upon  the  easy-cushioned,  revolving 
chairs ;  they  surveyed  with  infinite  satisfaction 
the  elegance  of  the  flying-parlor  in  which  they 
sat,  or  turned  their  contented  regard  through 
the  broad  plate-glass  windows  upon  the  land- 
scape without.  They  said  that  none  but  Amer- 
icans or  enchanted  princes  in  the  Arabian 


n8  Their  Wedding  Journey 


Nights  ever  traveled  in  such  state  ;  and  when 
the  stewards  of  the  car  came  round  successively 
with  tropical  fruits,  ice-creams,  and  claret 
punches,  they  felt  a  heightened  assurance  that 
they  were  either  enchanted  princes — or  Amer- 
icans. There  were  more  ladies  and  more  fash- 
ion than  in  the  other  cars  ;  and  prettily  dressed 
children  played  about  on  the  carpet ;  but  the 
general  appearance  of  the  passengers  hardly 
suggested  greater  wealth  than  elsewhere  ;  and 
they  were  plainly  in  that  car  because  they  were 
of  the  American  race,  which  finds  nothing  too 
good  for  it  that  its  money  can  buy. 


THE    ENCHANTED    CITY,    AND    BEYOND 

THEY  knew  none  of  the  hotels  in  Rochester, 
arid  they  had  chosen  a  certain  one  in  reliance 
upon  their  handbook.  When  they  named  it, 
there  stepped  forth  a  porter  of  an  incredibly 
cordial  and  pleasant  countenance,  who  took  their 
traveling-bags,  and  led  them  to  the  omnibus. 
As  they  were  his  only  passengers,  the  porter 
got  inside  with  them,  and  seeing  their  interest 
in  the  streets  through  which  they  rode,  he  des- 
canted in  a  strain  of  cheerful  pride  upon  the 
city's  prosperity  and  character,  and  gave  the 
names  of  the  people  who  lived  in  the  finer 
houses,  just  as  if  it  had  been  an  Old-World 
town,  and  he  some  eager  historian  expecting  re- 
ward for  his  comment  upon  it.  He  cast  quite 
a  glamour  over  Rochester,  so  that  in  passing  a 
body  of  water,  bordered  by  houses,  and  over- 
looked by  odd  balconies  and  galleries,  and 
crossed  in  the  distance  by  a  bridge  upon  which 
other  houses  were  built,  they  boldly  declared, 
being  at  their  wit's  end  for  a  comparison,  and 
taken  with  the  unhoped  -  for  picturesqueness, 


120 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


that  it  put  them  in  mind  of  Verona.  Thus  they 
reached  their  hotel  in  almost  a  spirit  of  foreign 
travel,  and  very  willing  to  verify  the  pleasant 
porter's  assurance  that  they  would  like  it,  for 
everybody  liked  it ;  and  it  was  with  a  sudden 

sinking  of  the 
heart  that  Basil 
beheld  presiding 
over  the  register 
the  conventional 
American  hotel 
clerk.  He  was 
young,  he  had  a 
neat  mustache 
and  well-brushed 
hair;  jeweled 
studs  sparkled  in 
his  shirt  front, 
and  rings  on  his 
white  hands  ;  a 
gentle  disdain 
of  the  traveling 
public  breathed  from  his  person  in  the  mystical 
odors  of  Ihlang-ihlang.  He  did  not  lift  his 
haughty  head  to  look  at  the  wayfarer  who 
meekly  wrote  his  name  in  the  register ;  he  did 
not  answer  him  when  he  begged  for  a  cool 
room  ;  he  turned  to  the  board  on  which  the 
keys  hung,  and  plucking  one  from  it  slid  it 


L  ike   Verona 


The  Condescending  Hotel  Clerk 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond        1 23 

towards  Basil  on  the  marble  counter,  touched  a 
bell  for  a  call-boy,  whistled  a  bar  of  Offenbach, 
and  as  he  wrote  the  number  of  the  room  against 
Basil's  name,  said  to  a  friend  lounging  near  him, 
as  if  resuming  a  conversation,  "Well,  she's  a 
mighty  pooty  gul,  anyway,  Chawley  !  " 

When  I  reflect  that  this  was  a  type  of  the 
hotel  clerk  throughout  the  United  States,  that 
behind  unnumbered  registers  at  this  moment  he 
is  snubbing  travelers  into  the  dust,  and  that  they 
are  suffering  and  perpetuating  him,  I  am  lost  in 
wonder  at  the  national  meekness.  Not  that  I 
am  one  to  refuse  the  humble  pie  his  jeweled 
fingers  offer  me.  Abjectly  I  take  my  key,  and 
creep  off  upstairs  after  the  call-boy,  and  try  to 
give  myself  the  genteel  air  of  one  who  has  not 
been  stepped  upon.  But  I  think  homicidal 
things  all  the  same,  and  I  rejoice  that  in  the 
safety  of  print  I  can  cry  out  against  the  despot, 
whom  I  have  not  the  presence  to  defy.  "  You 
vulgar  and  cruel  little  soul,"  I  say,  and  I  imagine 
myself  breathing  the  words  to  his  teeth,  "  why 
do  you  treat  a  weary  stranger  with  this  igno- 
miny ?  I  am  to  pay  well  for  what  I  get,  and  I 
shall  not  complain  of  that.  But  look  at  me,  and 
own  my  humanity  ;  confess  by  some  civil  action, 
by  some  decent  phrase,  that  I  have  rights  and 
that  they  shall  be  respected.  Answer  my 
proper  questions  ;  respond  to  my  fair  demands. 


124  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Do  not  slide  my  key  at  me  ;  do  not  deny  me  the 
poor  politeness  of  a  nod  as  you  give  it  iri  my 
hand.  I  am  not  your  equal ;  few  men  are  ;  but 
I  shall  not  presume  upon  your  clemency.  Come, 
I  also  am  human  !  " 

Basil  found  that,  for  his  sin  in  asking  for  a 
cool  room,  the  clerk  had  given  them  a  chamber 
into  which  the  sun  had  been  shining  the  whole 
afternoon  ;  but  when  his  luggage  had  been  put 
in  it  seemed  useless  to  protest,  and  like  a  true 
American,  like  you,  like  me,  he  shrank  from  as- 
serting himself.  When  the  sun  went  down  it 
would  be  cool  enough  ;  and  they  turned  their 
thoughts  to  supper,  not  venturing  to  hope  that, 
as  it  proved,  the  handsome  clerk  was  the  sole 
blemish  of  the  house. 

Isabel  viewed  with  innocent  surprise  the  evi- 
dences of  luxury  afforded  by  all  the  appoint- 
ments of  a  hotel  so  far  west  of  Boston,  and  they 
both  began  to  feel  that  natural  ease  and  superi- 
ority which  an  inn  always  inspires  in  its  guests, 
and  which  our  great  hotels,  far  from  impairing, 
enhance  in  flattering  degree  ;  in  fact,  the  clerk 
once  forgotten,  I  protest,  for  my  own  part,  I  am 
never  more  conscious  of  my  merits  and  riches 
in  any  other  place.  One  has  there  the  romance 
of  being  a  stranger  and  a  mystery  to  every  one 
else,  and  lives  in  the  alluring  possibility  of  not 
being  found  out  a  most  ordinary  person. 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond        125 


Evidences  of  Luxury  so  far  front  Boston 

They  were  so  late  in  coming  to  the  supper- 
room,  that  they  found  themselves  alone  in  it. 
At  the  door  they  had  a  bow  from  the  head- 
waiter,  who  ran  before  them  and  drew  out 
chairs  for  them  at  a  table,  and  signaled  waiters 


126  Their  Wedding  Journey 

to  serve  them,  first  laying  before  them  with  a 
gracious  flourish  the  bill  of  fare.  A  force  of 
servants  flocked  about  them,  as  if  to  contest  the 
honor  of  ordering  their  supper ;  one  set  upon 
the  table  a  heaping  vase  of  strawberries,  another 
flanked  it  with  flagons  of  cream,  a  third  accom- 
panied it  with  cates  of  varied  flavor  and  device  ; 
a  fourth  obsequiously  smoothed  the  table-cloth  ; 
a  fifth,  the  youngest  of  the  five,  with  folded 
arms  stood  by  and  admired  the  satisfaction  the 
rest  were  giving.  When  these  had  been  dis- 
patched for  steak,  for  broiled  whitefish  of  the 
lakes,  —  noblest  and  delicatest  of  the  fish  that 
swim,  —  for  broiled  chicken,  for  fried  potatoes, 
for  muffins,  for  whatever  the  lawless  fancy  and 
ravening  appetites  of  the  wayfarers  could  sug- 
gest, this  fifth  waiter  remained  to  tempt  them 
to  further  excess,  and  vainly  proposed  some 
kind  of  eggs,  —  fried  eggs,  poached  eggs, 
scrambled  eggs,  boiled  eggs,  or  omelette. 

"  Oh,  you  're  sure,  dearest,  that  this  is  n't  a 
vision  of  fairy-land,  which  will  vanish  presently, 
and  leave  us  empty  and  forlorn  ?  "  plaintively 
murmured  Isabel,  as  the  menial  train  reap- 
peared, bearing  the  supper  they  had  ordered 
and  set  it  smoking  down. 

Suddenly  a  look  of  apprehension  dawned 
upon  her  face,  and  she  let  fall  her  knife  and 
fork.  "You  dorit  think,  Basil,"  she  faltered, 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond          127 

"  that  they  could  have  found  out  we  're  a  bridal 
party,  and  that  they  're  serving  us  so  magnifi- 
cently because  —  because  —  Oh,  I  shall  be 
miserable  every  moment  we  're  here  !  "  she  con- 
cluded desperately. 

She  looked,  indeed,    extremely   wretched   for 


A   Swarm  of  Servants 

a  woman  with  so  much  broiled  whitefish  on 
her  plate,  and  such  a  banquet  array  about  her  ; 
and  her  husband  made  haste  to  reassure  her. 


128  Their  Wedding  Journey 


"  You  're  still  demoralized,  Isabel,  by  our  suffer 
ings  at  the  Albany  depot,  and  you  exaggerate 
the  blessings  we  enjoy,  though  I  should  be 
sorry  to  undervalue  them.  I  suspect  it 's  the 
custom  to  use  people  well  at  this  hotel ;  or  if 
we  are  singled  out  for  uncommon  favor,  I  think 
I  can  explain  the  cause.  It  has  been  discov- 
ered by  the  register  that  we  are  from  Boston, 
and  we  are  merely  meeting  the  reverence,  affec- 
tion, and  homage  which  the  name  everywhere 
commands.  It 's  our  fortune  to  represent  for 
the  time  being  the  intellectual  and  moral  virtue 
of  Boston.  This  supper  is  not  a  tribute  to  you 
as  a  bride,  but  as  a  Bostonian." 

It  was  a  cheap  kind  of  raillery,  to  be  sure,  but 
it  served.  It  kindled  the  local  pride  of  Isabel 
to  self-defense,  and  in  the  distraction  of  the 
effort  she  forgot  her  fears ;  she  returned  with 
renewed  appetite  to  the  supper,  and  in  its  excel- 
lence they  both  let  fall  their  dispute,  —  which 
ended,  of  course,  in  Basil's  abject  confession 
that  Boston  was  the  best  place  in  the  world,  and 
nothing  but  banishment  could  make  him  live 
elsewhere,  —  and  gave  themselves  up,  as  usual, 
to  the  delight  of  being  just  what  and  where 
they  were.  At  last,  the  natural  course  brought 
them  to  the  strawberries,  and  when  the  fifth 
waiter  approached  from  the  corner  of  the  table 
at  which  he  stood,  to  place  the  vase  near  them, 


The  Beacon  Street  of  Rochester 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         131 

he  did  not  retire  at  once,  but  presently  asked  if 
they  were  from  the  West. 

Isabel  smiled,  and  Basil  answered  that  they 
were  from  the  East. 

He  faltered  at  this,  as  if  doubtful  of  the  result 
if  he  went  further,  but  took  heart,  then,  and 
asked,  "  Don't  you  think  this  is  a  pretty  nice 
hotel"  —  hastily  adding  as  a  concession  of  the 
probable  existence  of  much  finer  things  at  the 
East  —  "  for  a  small  hotel  ?  " 

They  imagined  this  waiter  as  new  to  his  sta- 
tion in  life,  as  perhaps  just  risen  to  it  from 
some  country  tavern,  and  unable  to  repress  his 
exultation  in  what  seemed  their  sympathetic 
presence.  They  were  charmed  to  have  invited 
his  guileless  confidence,  to  have  evoked  possi- 
bly all  the  simple  poetry  of  his  soul ;  it  was 
what  might  have  happened  in  Italy,  only  there 
so  much  naivete  would  have  meant  money ; 
they  looked  at  each  other  with  rapture,  and 
Basil  answered  warmly,  while  the  waiter  flushed 
as  at  a  personal  compliment  :  "  Yes,  it 's  a  nice 
hotel ;  one  of  the  best  I  ever  saw,  East  or  West, 
in  Europe  or  America." 

They  rose  and  left  the  room,  and  were  bowed 
out  by  the  head-waiter. 

"  How  perfectly  idyllic  !  "  cried  Isabel.  "  Is 
this  Rochester,  New  York,  or  is  it  some  vale  of 
Arcady  ?  Let 's  go  out  and  see." 


i32  Their  Wedding  Journey 

They  walked  out  into  the  moonlit  city,  up 
and  down  streets  that  seemed  very  stately  and 
fine,  amidst  a  glitter  of  shop-window  lights  ; 
and  then,  less  of  their  own  motion  than  of  mere 
error,  they  quitted  the  business  quarter,  and 
found  themselves  in  a  quiet  avenue  of  handsome 
residences,  —  the  Beacon  Street  of  Rochester, 
whatever  it  was  called.  They  said  it  was  a 
night  and  a  place  for  lovers,  for  none  but  lovers, 
for  lovers  newly  plighted,  and  they  made  believe 
to  bemoan  themselves  that,  hold  each  other 
dear  as  they  would,  the  exaltation,  the  thrill, 
the  glory  of  their  younger  love  was  gone. 
Some  of  the  houses  had  gardened  spaces  about 
them,  from  which  stole,  like  breaths  of  sweetest 
and  saddest  regret,  the  perfume  of  midsummer 
flowers, — the  despair  of  the  rose  for  the  bud. 
As  they  passed  a  certain  house,  a  song  fluttered 
'out  of  the  open  window  and  ceased,  the  piano 
warbled  at  the  final  rush  of  fingers  over  its 
chords,  and  they  saw  her  with  her  fingers  rest- 
ing lightly  on  the  keys,  and  her  graceful  head 
lifted  to  look  into  his ;  they  saw  him  with  his 
arm  yet  stretched  across  to  the  leaves  of  music 
he  had  been  turning,  and  his  face  lowered  to 
meet  her  gaze. 

"  Ah,  Basil,  I  wish  it  was  we,  there  !  " 
"  And  if  they  knew  that  we,  on  our  wedding 
journey,  stood  outside,  would  not  they  wish  it 
was  they,  here  ?  " 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         133 


"  I  suppose  so,  dearest,  and  yet,  once-upon-a- 
time  was  sweet.  Pass  on  ;  and  let  us  see  what 
charm  we  shall  find  next  in  this  enchanted  city." 

"Yes,  it  is  an 
enchanted  city  to 
us,"  mused  Basil, 
aloud,  as  they  wan- 
dered on,  "  and 
all  strange  cities 
are  enchanted. 
What  is  Roches- 
ter to  the  Roches- 
terese?  A  place 
of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand people,  as  we 
read  in  our  guide, 
an  immense  flour 
interest,  a  great 
railroad  entrepot, 
an  unrivaled  nur- 
sery trade,  a  uni- 
versity, two  com- 
mercial colleges, 
three  collegiate 
institutes,  eight 
or  ten  newspapers, 

and  a  free  library.  I  dare  say  any  respectable 
resident  would  laugh  at  us  sentimentalizing  over 
his  city.  But  Rochester  is  for  us,  who  don't 


/  "wish  it  was  ive 


134  Their  Wedding  journey 

know  it  at  all,  a  city  of  any  time  or  country, 
moonlit,  filled  with  lovers  hovering  over  piano- 
fortes, of  a  palatial  hotel  with  pastoral  waiters 
and  porters, —  a  city  of  handsome  streets  wrapt 
in  beautiful  quiet  and  dreaming  of  the  golden 
age.  The  only  definite  association  with  it  in 
our  minds  is  the  tragically  romantic  thought 
that  here  Sam  Patch  met  his  fate." 

"  And  who  in  the  world  was  Sam  Patch  ? " 

"Isabel,  your  ignorance  of  all  that  an  Amer- 
ican woman  should  be  proud  of  distresses  me. 
Have  you  really,  then,  never  heard  of  the  man 
who  invented  the  saying,  '  Some  things  can  be 
done  as  well  as  others/  and  proved  it  by  jump- 
ing over  Niagara  Falls  twice  ?  Spurred  on  by 
this  belief,  he  attempted  the  leap  of  the  Genesee 
Falls.  The  leap  was  easy  enough,  but  the  com- 
ing up  again  was  another  matter.  He  failed  in 
that.  It  was  the  one  thing  that  could  not  be 
done  as  well  as  others." 

"  Dreadful !  "  said  Isabel,  with  the  cheerfullest 
satisfaction.  "  But  what  has  all  that  to  do  with 
Rochester?" 

"  Now,  my  dear !  You  don't  mean  to  say 
you  didn't  know  that  the  Genesee  Falls  were 
at  Rochester  ?  Upon  my  word,  I  'm  ashamed, 
Why,  we're  within  ten  minutes'  walk  of  them 
now." 

"  Then  walk  to  them  at  once ! "  cried  Isabel, 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         135 

wholly  unabashed,  and  in  fact  unable  to  see 
what  he  had  to  be  ashamed  of.  "Actually,  I 
believe  you  would  have  allowed  me  to  leave 
Rochester  without  telling  me  the  falls  were 
here,  if  you  had  n't  happened  to  think  of  Sam 
Patch." 

Saying  this,  she  persuaded  herself  that  a 
chief  object  of  their  journey  had  been  to  visit 
the  scene  of  Sam  Patch's  fatal  exploit,  and  she 
drew  Basil  with  a  nervous  swiftness  in  the 
direction  of  the  railroad  station,  beyond  which 
he  said  were  the  falls.  Presently,  after  thread- 
ing their  way  among  a  multitude  of  locomotives, 
with  and  without  trains  attached,  that  backed 
and  advanced,  or  stood  still,  hissing  impatiently 
on  every  side,  they  passed  through  the  station 
to  a  broad  planking  above  the  river  on  the  other 
side,  and  thence,  after  encounter  of  more  loco- 
motives, they  found,  by  dint  of  much  asking,  a 
street  winding  up  the  hillside  to  the  left,  and 
leading  to  the  German  Bierhaus  that  gives  ac- 
cess to  the  best  view  of  the  cataract. 

The  Americans  have  characteristically  bor- 
dered the  river  with  manufactures,  making 
every  drop  work  its  passage  to  the  brink  ;  while 
the  Germans  have  as  characteristically  made  use 
of  the  beauty  left  over,  and  have  built  a  Bier- 
haus where  they  may  regale  both  soul  and 
sense  in  the  presence  of  the  cataract.  Our 


136  Their  Wedding  Journey 

travelers  might,  in  another  mood  and  place, 
have  thought  it  droll  to  arrive  at  that  sublime 
spectacle  through  a  Bierhaus,  but  in  this  en- 
chanted city  it  seemed  to  have  a  peculiar  fit- 
ness. 

A  narrow  corridor  gave  into  a  wide  festival 
space  occupied  by  many  tables,  each  of  which 
was  surrounded  by  a  gfoup  of  clamorous  Ger- 
mans of  either  sex  and  every  age,  with  tall 
beakers  of  beaded  lager  before  them,  and  slim 
flasks  of  Rhenish ;  overhead  flamed  the  gas 
in  globes  of  varicolored  glass  ;  the  walls  were 
painted  like  those  of  such  haunts  in  the  father- 
land ;  and  the  wedding-journeyers  were  fain  to 
linger  on  their  way,  to  dwell  upon  that  scene  of 
honest  enjoyment,  to  inhale  the  mingling  odors 
of  beer  and  of  pipes,  and  of  the  pungent  cheeses 
in  which  the  children  of  the  fatherland  delight. 
Aniidst  the  inspiriting  clash  of  plates  and  glasses, 
the  rattle  of  knives  and  forks,  and  the  hoarse 
rush  of  gutturals,  they  could  catch  the  words 
Franzosen,  Kaiser,  Konig,  and  Schlacht,  and 
they  knew  that  festive  company  to  be  exulting 
in  the  first  German  triumphs  of  the  war,  which 
were  then  the  day's  news  ;  they  saw  fists  shaken 
at  noses  in  fierce  exchange  of  joy,  arms  tossed 
abroad  in  wild  congratulation,  and  health-pour- 
ing goblets  of  beer  lifted  in  air.  Then  they 
stepped  into  the  moonlight  again,  and  heard 


The  Genesee  Falls 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         139 

only  the  solemn  organ  stops  of  the  cataract. 
Through  garden-ground  they  were  led  by  the 
little  maid,  their  guide,  to  a  small  pavilion  that 
stood  on  the  edge  of  the  precipitous  shore,  and 
commanded  a  perfect  view  of  the  falls.  As  they 
entered  this  pavilion,  a  youth  and  maiden, 
clearly  lovers,  passed  out,  and  they  were  left 
alone  with  that  sublime  presence.  Something 
of  defmiteness  was  to  be  desired  in  the  specta- 
cle, but  there  was  ample  compensation  in  the 
mystery  with  which  the  broad  effulgence  and 
the  dense  unluminous  shadows  of  the  moon- 
shine invested  it.  The  light  touched  all  the 
tops  of  the  rapids,  that  seemed  to  writhe  away 
from  the  brink  of  the  cataract,  and  then  desper- 
ately breaking  and  perishing  to  fall,  the  white 
disembodied  ghosts  of  rapids,  down  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  vast  and  deep  ravine  through  which 
the  river  rushed  away.  Now  the  waters  seemed 
to  mass  themselves  a  hundred  feet  high  in  a 
wall  of  snowy  compactness,  now  to  disperse 
into  their  multitudinous  particles  and  hang  like 
some  vaporous  cloud  from  the  cliff.  Every 
moment  renewed  the  vision  of  beauty  in  some 
rare  and  fantastic  shape  ;  and  its  loveliness  iso- 
lated it,  in  spite  of  the  great  town  on  the  other 
shore,  the  station  with  its  bridge  and  its  trains, 
the  mills  that  supplied  their  feeble  little  needs 
from  the  cataract's  strength. 


i4°  Their  Wedding  Journey 

At  last  Basil  pointed  out  the  table-rock  in 
the  middle  of  the  fall,  from  which  Sam  Patch 
had  made  his  fatal  leap ;  but  Isabel  refused  to 
admit  that  tragical  figure  to  the  honors  of  her 
emotions.  "  I  don't  care  for  him  ! "  she  said 
fiercely.  "  Patch  !  What  a  name  to  be  linked 
in  our  thoughts  with  this  superb  cataract." 

"Well,  Isabel,  I  think  you  are  very  unjust. 
It 's  as  good  a  name  as  Leander,  to  my  think- 
ing, and  it  was  immortalized  in  support  of  a 
great  idea,  —  the  feasibility  of  all  things  ;  while 
Leander's  has  come  down  to  us  as  that  of  the 
weak  victim  of  a  passion.  We  shall  never  have 
a  poetry  of  our  own  till  we  get  over  this  ab- 
surd reluctance  ,from  facts,  till  we  make  the 
ideal  embrace  and  include  the  real,  till  we 
consent  to  face  the  music  in  our  simple  com- 
mon names,  and  put  Smith  into  a  lyric  and 
Jones  into  a  tragedy.  The  Germans  are  braver 
than  we,  and  in  them  you  find  facts  and  dreams 
continually  blended  and  confronted.  Here  is  a 
fortunate  illustration.  The  people  we  met  com- 
ing out  of  this  pavilion  were  lovers,  and  they 
had  been  here  sentimentalizing  on  this  superb 
cataract,  as  you  call  it,  with  which  my  heroic 
Patch  is  not  worthy  to  be  named.  No  doubt 
they  had  been  quoting  Uhland  or  some  other 
of  their  romantic  poets,  perhaps  singing  some 
of  their  tender  German  love-songs,  —  the  ten- 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         141 

derest,  unearthliest  love-songs  in  the  world. 
At  the  same  time  they  did  not  disdain  the 
matter-of-fact  coporeity  in  which  their  senti- 
ment was  enshrined ;  they  fed  it  heartily  and 
abundantly  with  the  banquet  whose  relics  we 
see  here." 

On  a  table  before  them  stood  a  pair  of  beer- 
glasses,  in  the  bottoms  of  which  lurked  scarce 
the  foam  of  the  generous  liquor  lately  brim- 
ming them  ;  some  shreds  of  sausage,  some  rinds 
of  Swiss  cheese,  bits  of  cold  ham,  crusts  of  bread, 
and  the  ashes  of  a  pipe. 

Isabel  shuddered  at  the  spectacle,  but  made 
no  comment,  and  Basil  went  on :  "  Do  you  sup- 
pose they  scorned  the  idea  of  Sam  Patch  as 
they  gazed  upon  the  falls  ?  On  the  contrary, 
I  Ve  no  doubt  that  he  recalled  to  her  the  bal- 
lad which  a  poet  of  their  language  made  about 
him.  It  used  to  go  the  rounds  of  the  German 
newspapers,  and  I  translated  it,  a  long  while 
ago,  when  I  thought  that  I  too  was  in  Arkadien 
geboren. 

"  '  In  the  Bierhausgarten  I  linger 
By  the  Falls  of  the  Genesee : 
From  the  Table-Rock  in  the  middle 
Leaps  a  figure  bold  and  free. 

" '  Aloof  in  the  air  it  rises 

O'er  the  rush,  the  plunge,  the  death; 
On  the  thronging  banks  of  the  river 
There  is  neither  pulse  nor  breath. 


142  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

" '  Forever  it  hovers  and  poises 
Aloof  in  the  moonlit  air ; 
As  light  as  mist  from  the  rapids, 
As  heavy  as  nightmare. 

" '  In  anguish  I  cry  to  the  people, 

The  long-since  vanished  hosts  ; 

I  see  them  stretch  forth  in  answer, 

The  helpless  hands  of  ghosts.' 

I  once  met  the  poet  who  wrote  this.  He  drank 
too  much  beer." 

11 1  don't  see  that  he  got  in  the  name  of  Sam 
Patch,  after  all,"  said  Isabel. 

"  Oh  yes,  he  did  ;  but  I  had  to  yield  to  our 
taste,  and  where  he  said,  '  Springt  der  Sam 
Patsch  kiihn  und  frei,'  I  made  it, '  Leaps  a  figure 
bold  and  free.'  " 

As  they  passed  through  the  house  on  their 
way  out,  they  saw  the  youth  and  maiden  they 
had  met  at  the  pavilion  door.  They  were  seated 
at  a  table ;  two  glasses  of  beer  towered  before 
them  ;  on  their  plates  were  odorous  crumbs  of 
Limburger  cheese.  They  both  wore  a  pensive 
air. 

The  next  morning  the  illusion  that  had  wrapt 
the  whole  earth  was  gone  with  the  moonlight. 
By  nine  o'clock,  when  the  wedding-journeyers 
resumed  their  way  toward  Niagara,  the  heat 
had  already  set  in  with  the  effect  of  ordinary 
midsummer's  heat  at  high  noon.  The  car  into 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         143 


which  they  got  had  come  the  past  night  from 
Albany,  and  had  an  air  of  almost  conscious  shab- 
biness,  griminess,  and  over-use.  The  seats  were 
covered  with  cinders,  which  also  crackled  under 
foot.  Dust  was  on  everything,  especially  the 
persons  of  the  crumpled  and  weary  passengers 
of  overnight.  Those  who  came  aboard  at  Roch- 
ester failed  to  lighten  the  spiritual  gloom,  and 
presently  they  sank  into  the  common  bodily 
wretchedness.  The  train  was  somewhat  belated, 
and  as  it  drew  nearer  Buffalo  they  knew  the  con- 
ductor to  have  abandoned  himself  to  that  black- 
est of  the  arts,  making  time.  The  long  irregu- 
lar jolt  of  the  ordinary  progress  was  reduced  to 
an  incessant  shudder  and  a  quick  lateral  motion. 
The  air  within  the  cars  was  deadly  ;  if  a  window 
was  raised,  a  storm  of  dust  and  cinders  blew 
in  and  quick  gusts  caught  away  the  breath.  So 
they  sat  with  closed  windows,  sweltering  and 
stifling,  and  all  the  faces  on  which  a  lively  hor- 
ror was  not  painted  were  dull  and  damp  with 
apathetic  misery. 

The  incidents  were  in  harmony  with  the  ab- 
ject physical  tone  of  the  company.  There  was 
a  quarrel  between  a  thin,  shrill-voiced,  highly 
dressed,  much -bedizened  Jewess,  on  the  one 
side,  and  a  fat,  greedy  old  woman,  half  asleep, 
and  a  boy  with  large  pink  transparent  ears  that 
stood  out  from  his  head  like  the  handles  of  a 


144  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

jar,  on  the  other  side,  about  a  seat  which  the 
Hebrew  wanted,  and  which  the  others  had  kept 
filled  with  packages  on  the  pretense  that  it  was 
engaged.  It  was  a  loud  and  fierce  quarrel 
enough,  but  it  won  no  sort  of  favor  ;  and  when 
the  Jewess  had  given  a  final  opinion  that  the 
greedy  old  woman  was  no  lady,  and  the  boy, 
who  disputed  in  an  ironical  temper,  replied, 
"  Highly  complimentary,  I  must  say,"  there  was 
no  sign  of  relief  or  other  acknowledgment  in 
any  of  the  spectators,  that  there  had  been  a 
quarrel. 

There  was  a  little  more  interest  taken  in  the 
misfortune  of  an  old  purblind  German  and  his 
son,  who  were  found  by  the  conductor  to  be  a 
few  hundred  miles  out  of  the  direct  course  to 
their  destination,  and  were  with  some  trouble 
and  the  aid  of  an  Americanized  fellow-country- 
man made  aware  of  the  fact.  The  old  man 
then  fell  back  in  the  prevailing  apathy,  and  the 
child  naturally  cared  nothing.  By  and  by  came 
the  unsparing  train-boy  on  his  rounds,  bestrew- 
ing the  passengers  successively  with  papers, 
magazines,  fine-cut  tobacco,  and  packages  of 
candy.  He  gave  the  old  man  a  package  of 
candy,  and  passed  on.  The  German  took  it  as 
the  bounty  of  the  American  people,  oddly  mani- 
fested in  a  situation  where  he  could  otherwise 
have  had  little  proof  of  their  care.  He  opened 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         145 


it  and  was  sharing  it  with  his  son  when  the 
train-boy  came  back,  and  metallically,  like  a  part 
of  the  machinery,  demanded,  "  Ten  cents  !  " 
The  German  stared  helplessly,  and  the  boy  re- 
peated, "  Ten  cents  ! 
ten  cents  !  "  with  tire- 
some patience,  while 
the  other  passengers 
smiled.  When  it  had 
passed  through  the 
alien's  head  that  he  was 
to  pay  for  this  national 
gift  and  he  took  with 
his  tremulous  fingers 
from  the  recesses  of  his 
pocket-book  a  ten-cent 
note  and  handed  it  to 
his  tormentor,  some  of 
the  people  laughed.  Among  the  rest,  Basil  and 
Isabel  laughed,  and  then  looked  at  each  other 
with  eyes  of  mutual  reproach. 

"Well,  upon  my  word,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "I 
think  we  've  fallen  pretty  low.  I  've  never  felt 
such  a  poor,  shaboy  ruffian  before.  Good  hea- 
vens !  To  think  of  our  immortal  souls  being 
moved  to  mirth  by  such  a  thing  as  this,  —  so 
stupid,  so  barren  of  all  reason  of  laughter.  And 
then  the  cruelty  of  it !  What  ferocious  imbe- 
ciles we  are  !  Whom  have  I  married  ?  A 
woman  with  neither  heart  nor  brain  !  " 


The   Unsparing  Train-Boy. 


146  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  Oh,  Basil,  dear,  pay  him  back  the  money  - 
do." 

"  I  can't.  That 's  the  worst  of  it.  He 's 
money  enough,  and  might  justly  take  offense. 
What  breaks  my  heart  is  that  we  could  have  the 
depravity  to  smile  at  the  mistake  of  a  friendless 
stranger,  who  supposed  he  had  at  last  met  with 
an  act  of  pure  kindness.  It 's  a  thing  to  weep 
over.  Look  at  these  grinning  wretches  !  What 
a  fiendish  effect  their  smiles  have,  through 
their  cinders  and  sweat !  Oh,  it 's  the  terrible 
weather ;  the  despotism  of  the  dust  and  heat ; 
the  wickedness  of  the  infernal  air.  What  a 
squalid  and  loathsome  company  !  " 

At  Buffalo,  where  they  arrived  late,  they 
found  themselves  with  several  hours'  time  on 
their  hands  before  the  train  started  for  Niagara, 
and  in  the  first  moments  of  tedium,  Isabel  for- 
got herself  into  saying,  "  Don't  you  think  we  'd 
have  done  better  to  go  directly  from  Rochester 
to  the  Falls,  instead  of  coming  this  way  ?  " 

"  Why  certainly.  I  did  n't  propose  coming 
this  way." 

"  I  know  it,  dear.  I  was  only  asking,"  said 
Isabel  meekly.  "  But  I  should  think  you  'd 
have  generosity  enough  to  take  a  little  of  the 
blame,  when  I  wanted  to  come  out  of  a  roman- 
tic feeling  for  you." 


The  Enchanted  City,  and  Beyond         147 

This  romantic  feeling  Deferred  to  the  fact 
that,  many  years  before,  when  Basil  made  his 
first  visit  to  Niagara,  he  had  approached  from 
the  west  by  way  of  Buffalo ;  and  Isabel,  who 
tenderly  begrudged  his  having  existed  before 
she  knew  him,  and  longed  to  ally  herself  retro- 
spectively with  his  past,  was  resolved  to  draw 
near  the  great  cataract  by  no  other  route. 

She  fetched  a  little  sigh  which  might  mean 
the  weather  or  his  hard-heartedness.  The  sigh 
touched  him,  and  he  suggested  a  carriage-ride 
through  the  city  ;  she  assented  with  eagerness, 
for  it  was  what  she  had  been  thinking  of.  She 
had  never  seen  a  lakeside  city  before,  and  she 
was  taken  by  surprise.  "  If  ever  we  leave  Bos- 
ton," she  said,  "we  will  not  live  at  Rochester, 
as  I  thought  last  night ;  we  '11  come  to  Buffalo." 
She  found  that  the  place  had  all  the  pictur- 
esqueness  of  a  seaport,  without  the  ugliness 
that  attends  the  rising  and  falling  tides.  A 
delicious  freshness  breathed  from  the  lake, 
which  lying  so  smooth,  faded  into  the  sky  at 
last,  with  no  line  between  sharper  than  that 
which  divides  drowsing  from  dreaming.  But 
the  color  was  the  most  charming  thing,  that 
delicate  blue  of  the  lake,  without  the  depth  of 
the  sea-blue,  but  infinitely  softer  and  lovelier. 
The  nearer  expanses  rippled  with  dainty  waves, 
silver  and  lucent ;  the  further  levels  made,  with 


148  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  sun-dimmed  summer  sky,  a  vague  horizon 
of  turquoise  and  amethyst,  lit  by  the  white  sails 
of  ships,  and  stained  by  the  smoke  of  steamers. 

"  Take  me  away  now,"  said  Isabel,  when  her 
eyes  had  feasted  upon  all  this,  "  and  don't  let 
me  see  another  thing  till  I  get  to  Niagara. 
Nothing  less  sublime  is  worthy  the  eyes  that 
have  beheld  such  beauty." 

However,  on  the  way  to  Niagara  she  con- 
sented to  glimpses  of  the  river  which  carries 
the  waters  of  the  lake  for  their  mighty  plunge, 
and  which  shows  itself  very  nobly  from  time  to 
time  as  you  draw  toward  the  cataract,  with 
wooded  or  cultivated  islands,  and  rich  farms 
along  its  low  shores,  and  at  last  flashes  upon 
the  eye  the  shining  white  of  the  rapids,  —  a 
hint,  no  more,  of  the  splendor  and  awfulness  to 
be  revealed. 


VI 

NIAGARA 

As  the  train  stopped,  Isabel's  heart  beat  with 
a  childlike  exultation,  as  I  believe  every  one's 
heart  must  who  is  worthy  to  arrive  at  Niagara. 
She  had  been  trying  to  fancy,  from  time  to 
time,  that  she  heard  the  roar  of  the  cataract, 
and  now,  when  she  alighted  from  the  car,  she 
was  sure  she  should  have  heard  it  but  for  the 
vulgar  little  noises  that  attend  the  arrival  of 
trains  at  Niagara  as  weir  as  everywhere  else. 
"  Never  mind,  dearest ;  you  shall  be  stunned 
with  it  before  you  leave,"  promised  her  hus- 
band ;  and,  not  wholly  disconsolate,  she  rode 
through  the  quaint  streets  of  the  village,  where 
it  remains  a  question  whether  the  lowliness  of 
the  shops  and  private 'houses  makes  the  hotels 
look  so  vast,  or  the  bigness  of  the  hotels  dwarfs 
all  the  other  buildings.  The  immense  caravan- 
saries swelling  up  from  among  the  little  bazaars 
(where  they  'sell  feather  fans,  and  miniature 
bark  canoes,  and  jars  and  vases  and  bracelets 
and  brooches  carved  out  of  the  local  rocks), 
made  our  friends  with  their  trunks  very  con- 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


scions  of  their  disproportion  to  the  accommo- 
dations of  the  smallest.  They  were  the  sole 
occupants  of  the  omnibus,  and  they  were  embar- 
rassed to  be  received  at  their  hotel  with  a  burst 
of  minstrelsy  from  a  whole  band  of  music. 
Isabel  felt  that  a  single  stringed  instrument  of 
some  timid  note  would  have  been  enough  ;  and 

Basil  was  going  to  ex- 
press his  own  modest 
preference  for  a  jew's- 
harp,  when  the  music 
ceased  with  a  sudden 
clash  of  the  cymbals. 
But  the  next  moment 
it  burst  out  with  fresh 
sweetness,  and  in 
alighting  they  per- 
ceived that  another 
omnibus  had  turned 
the  corner  and  was 
drawing  up  to  the  pil- 
lared portico  of  the 
hotel.  A  small  fam- 
ily dismounted,  and 
the  feet  of  the  last 
had  hardly  touched 

the  pavement  when  the  music  again  ended  as 
abruptly  as  those  flourishes  of  trumpets  that 
usher  player-kings  upon  the  stage.  Isabel  could 


The  Arrival 


Niagara  151 


not  help  laughing  at  this  melodious  parsimony. 
k!  I  hope  they  don't  let  on  the  cataract  and  shut 
it  off  in  this  frugal  style  ;  do  they,  Basil  ?  "  she 
asked,  and  passed  jesting  through  a  pomp  of 
unoccupied  porters  and  call-boys.  Apparently 
there  were  not  many  people  stopping  at  this 
hotel,  or  else  they  were  all  out  looking  at  the 
Falls  or  confined  to  their  rooms.  However,  our 
travelers  took  in  the  almost  weird  emptiness  of 
the  place  with  their  usual  gratitude  to  fortune 
for  all  queerness  in  life,  and  followed  to  the 
pleasant  quarters  assigned  them.  There  was 
time  before  supper  for  a  glance  at  the  cataract, 
and  after  a  brief  toilet  they  sallied  out  again 
upon  the  holiday  street,  with  its  parade  of  gay 
little  shops,  and  thence  passed  into  the  grove 
beside  the  Falls,  enjoying  at  every  instant  their 
feeling  of  arrival  at  a  sublime  destination. 

In  this  sense  Niagara  deserves  almost  to  rank 
with  Rome,  the  metropolis  of  history  and  reli- 
gion ;  with  Venice,  the  chief  city  of  sentiment 
and  fantasy.  In  either  you  are  at  once  made  at 
home  by  a  perception  of  its  greatness,  in  which 
there  is  no  quality  of  aggression,  as  there  always 
seems  to  be  in  minor  places  as  well  as  in  minor 
men,  and  you  gratefully  accept  its  sublimity  as  a 
fact  in  no  way  contrasting  with  your  own  insig- 
nificance. 

Our   friends  were  beset  of  course   by  many 


152  Their  Wedding  Jotirney 

carriage-drivers,  whom  they  repelled  with  the 
kindly  firmness  of  experienced  travel.  Isabel 
even  felt  a  compassion  for  these  poor  fellows 
who  had  seen  Niagara  so  much  as  to  have  for- 
gotten that  the  first  time  one  must  see  it  alone 
or  only  with  the  next  of  friendship.  She  was 
voluble  in  her  pity  of  Basil  that  it  was  not  as 
new  to  him  as  to  her,  till  between  the  trees  they 
saw  a  white  cloud  of  spray,  shot  through  and 
through  with  sunset,  rising,  rising,  and  she  felt 
her  voice  softly  and  steadily  beaten  down  by 
the  diapason  of  the  cataract. 

I  am  not  sure  but  the  first  emotion  on  view- 
ing Niagara  is  that  of  familiarity.  Ever  after, 
its  strangeness  increases  ;  but  in  that  earliest 
moment,  when  you  stand  by  the  side  of  the 
American  Fall,  and  take  in  so  much  of  the  whole 
as  your  glance  can  compass,  an  impression  of 
having  seen  it  often  before  is  certainly  very 
vivid.  This  may  be  an  effect  of  that  grandeur 
which  puts  you  at  your  ease  in  its  presence ;  but 
it  also  undoubtedly  results  in  part  from  lifelong 
acquaintance  with  every  variety  of  futile  picture 
of  the  scene.  You  have  its  outward  form  clearly 
in  your  memory  ;  the  shores,  the  rapids,  the 
islands,  the  curve  of  the  Falls,  and  the  stout 
rainbow  with  one  end  resting  on  their  top  and 
the  other  lost  in  the  mists  that  rise  from  the 
gulf  beneath.  On  the  whole,  I  do  not  account 


Niagara  153 


this  sort  of  familiarity  a  misfortune.  The  sur- 
prise is  none  the  less  a  surprise  because  it  is 
kept  till  the  last,  and  the  marvel,  making  itself 
finally  felt  in  every  nerve,  and  riot  at  once 
through  a  single  sense,  all  the  more  fully  pos- 
sesses you.  It  is  as  if  Niagara  reserved  her 
magnificence,  and  preferred  to  win  your  heart 
with  her  beauty ;  and  so  Isabel,  who  was 
instinctively  prepared  for  the  reverse,  suffered 
a  vague  disappointment,  for  a  little  instant,  as 
she  looked  along  the  verge  from  the  water  that 
caressed  the  shore  at  her  feet  before  it  flung 
itself  down,  to  the  wooded  point  that  divides 
the  American  from  the  Canadian  Fall,  beyond 
which  showed  dimly  through  its  veil  of  golden 
and  silver  mists  the  emerald  wall  of  the  great 
Horse-Shoe.  "  How  still  it  is  !  "  she  said,  amidst 
the  roar  that  shook  the  ground  under  their  feet 
and  made  the  leaves  tremble  overhead,  and 
"  How  lonesome !  "  amidst  the  people  lounging 
and  sauntering  about  in  every  direction  among 
the  trees.  In  fact,  that  prodigious  presence 
does  make  a  solitude  and  silence  round  every 
spirit  worthy  to  perceive  it,  and  it  gives  a  kind 
of  dignity  to  all  its  belongings,  so  that  the  rocks 
and  pebbles  in  the  water's  edge,  and  the  weeds 
and  grasses  that  nod  above  it,  have  a  value  far 
beyond  that  of  such  common  things  elsewhere. 
In  all  the  aspects  of  Niagara  there  seems  a 


154  Their  Wedding  Journey 

grave  simplicity,  which  is  perhaps  a  reflection 
of  the  spectator's  soul  for  once  utterly  dis- 
mantled of  affectation  and  convention.  In  the 
vulgar  reaction  from  this,  you  are  of  course  as 
trivial,  if  you  like,  at  Niagara,  as  anywhere. 

Slowly  Isabel  became  aware  that  the  sacred 
grove  beside  the  fall  was  profaned  by  some  very 
common  presences  indeed,  that  tossed  bits  of 
stone  and  sticks  into  the  consecrated  waters, 
and  struggled  for  handkerchiefs  and  fans,  and 
here  and  there  put  their  arms  about  each  other's 
waists,  and  made  a  show  of  laughing  and  joking. 
They  were  a  picnic  party  of  rude,  silly  folks  of 
the  neighborhood,  and  she  stood  pondering  them 
in  sad  wonder  if  anything  could  be  worse,  when 
she  heard  a  voice  saying  to  Basil,  "Take  you 
next,  sir  ?  Plenty  of  light  yet,  and  the  wind 's 
down  the  river,  so  the  spray  won't  interfere. 
Make  a  capital  picture  of  you ;  falls  in  the  back- 
ground." It  was  the  local  photographer  urging 
them  to  succeed  the  young  couple  he  had  just 
posed  at  the  brink :  the  gentleman  was  sitting 
down,  with  his  legs  crossed  and  his  hands  ele- 
gantly disposed  ;  the  lady  was  standing  at  his 
side,  with  one  arm  thrown  lightly  across  his 
shoulder,  while  with  the  other  hand  she  thrust 
his  cane  into  the  ground ;  you  could  see  it 
was  going  to  be  a  splendid  photograph. 

Basil  thanked  the  artist,  and  Isabel  said,  trust- 


At  the  Foot  of  the  Falls 


Niagara  157 


ing  as  usual  to  his  sympathy  for  perception  of 
her  train  of  thought,  "  Well,  I  '11  never  try  to  be 
high-strung  again.  But  should  n't  you  have 
thought,  dearest,  that  I  might  expect  to  be  high- 
strung  with  success  at  Niagara,  if  anywhere  ? " 
She  passively  followed  him  into  the  long,  queer, 
downward-sloping  edifice  on  the  border  of  the 
grove,  unflinchingly  mounted  the  car  that  stood 
ready,  and  descended  the  incline.  Emerging 
into  the  light  again,  she  found  herself  at  the 
foot  of  the  fall  by  whose  top  she  had  just  stood. 
At  first  she  was  glad  there  were  other  people 
down  there,  as  if  she  and  Basil  were  not  enough 
to  bear  it  alone,  and  she  could  almost  have 
spoken  to  the  two  hopelessly  pretty  brides,  with 
parasols  and  impertinent  little  boots,  whom  their 
attendant  husbands  were  helping  over  the  sharp 
and  slippery  rocks  so  bare  beyond  the  spray, 
so  green  and  mossy  within  the  fall  of  mist. 
But  in  another  breath  she  forgot  them,  as  she 
looked  on  that  dizzied  sea,  hurling  itself  from 
the  high  summit  in  huge  white  knots,  and  breaks 
and  masses,  and  plunging  into  the  gulf  beside 
her,  while  it  sent  continually  up  a  strong  voice 
of  lamentation,  and  crawled  away  in  vast  eddies, 
with  somehow  a  look  of  human  terror,  bewilder- 
ment, and  pain.  It  was  bathed  in  snowy  vapor 
to  its  crest,  but  now  and  then  heavy  currents  of 
air  drew  this  aside,  and  they  saw  the  outline 


158  Their  Wedding  Journey 

of  the  Falls  almost  as  far  as  the  Canada  side. 
They  remembered  afterwards  how  they  were 
able  to  make  use  of  but  one  sense  at  a  time,  and 
how  when  they  strove  to  take  in  the  forms  of 
the  descending  flood,  they  ceased  to  hear  it ; 
but  as  soon  as  they  released  their  eyes  from 
this  service,  every  fibre  in  them  vibrated  to  the 
sound,  and  the  spectacle  dissolved  away  in  it. 
They  were  aware,  too,  of  a  strange  capricious- 
ness  in  their  senses,  and  of  a  tendency  of  each 
to  palter  with  the  things  perceived.  The  eye 
could  no  longer  take  truthful  note  of  quality, 
and  now  beheld  the  tumbling  deluge  as  a  Gothic 
wall  of  carven  marble,  white,  motionless,  and 
now  as  a  fall  of  lightest  snow,  with  movement  in 
all  its  atoms,  and  scarce  so  much  cohesion  as 
would  hold  them  together ;  and  again  they  could 
not  discern  if  this  course  were  from  above  or 
from  beneath,  whether  the  water  rose  from  the 
abyss  or  dropped  from  the  height.  The  ear 
could  give  the  brain  no  assurance  of  the  sound 
that  filled  it,  and  whether  it  were  great  or  little ; 
the  prevailing  softness  of  the  cataract's  tone 
seemed  so  much  opposed  to  ideas  of  prodigious 
force  or  of  prodigious  volume.  It  was  only 
when  the  sight,  so  idle  in  its  own  behalf,  came 
to  the  aid  of  the  other  sense,  and  showed  them 
the  mute  movement  of  each  other's  lips,  that 
they  dimly  appreciated  the  depth  of  sound  that 
involved  them. 


Niagara  1 59 

"  I  think  you  might  have  been  high-strung 
there,  for  a  second  or  two,"  said  Basil,  when, 
ascending  the  incline,  he  could  make  himself 
heard.  "  We  will  try  the  bridge  next." 

Over  the  river,  so  still  with  its  oily  eddies 
and  delicate  wreaths  of  foam,  just  below  the 
Falls  they  have  in  late  years  woven  a  web  of 
wire  high  in  air  and  hung  a  bridge  from  preci- 
pice to  precipice.  Of  all  the  bridges  made  with 
hands  it  seems  -the  lightest,  most  ethereal ;  it 
is  ideally  graceful,  and  droops  from  its  slight 
towers  like  a  garland.  It  is  worthy  to  com- 
mand, as  it  does,  the  whole  grandeur  of  Niagara, 
and  to  show  the  traveler  the  vast  spectacle, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  American  Fall  to 
the  farthest  limit  of  the  Horse-Shoe,  with  all 
the  awful  pomp  of  the  rapids,  the  solemn  dark- 
ness of  the  wooded  islands,  the  mystery  of  the 
vaporous  gulf,  the  indomitable  wildness  of  the 
shores,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  up  or  down 
the  fatal  stream. 

To  this  bridge  our  friends  now  repaired,  by 
a  path  that  led  through  another  of  those  groves 
which  keep  the  village  back  from  the  shores 
of  the  river  on  the  American  side,  and  greatly 
help  the  sight-seer's  pleasure  in  the  place.  The 
exquisite  structure,  which  sways  so  tremulously 
from  its  towers,  and  seems  to  lay  so  slight  a 
hold  on  earth  where  its  cables  sink  into  the 


160  Their  Wedding  Journey 

ground,  is  to  other  bridges  what  the  blood 
horse  is  to  the  common  breed  of  roadsters ; 
and  now  they  felt  its  sensitive  nerves  quiver 
under  them  and  sympathetically  through  them 
as  they  advanced  farther  and  farther  toward 
the  centre.  Perhaps  their  sympathy  with  the 
bridge's  trepidation  was  too  great  for  unalloyed 
delight,  and  yet  the  thrill  was  a  glorious  one 
to  be  known  only  there ;  and  afterwards,  at 
least,  they  would  not  have  had  their  airy  path 
seem  more  secure. 

The  last  hues  of  sunset  lingered  in  the  mists 
that  sprung  from  the  base  of  the  Falls  with 
a  mournful,  tremulous  grace,  and  a  movement 
weird  as  the  play  of  the  northern  lights.  They 
were  touched  with  the  most  delicate  purples 
and  crimsons,  that  darkened  to  deep  red,  and 
then  faded  from  them  at  a  second  look,  and 
they  flew  upward,  swiftly  upward,  like  troops 
of  pale,  transparent  ghosts ;  while  a  perfectly 
clear  radiance,  better  than  any  other  for  local 
color,  dwelt  upon  the  scene.  Far  under  the 
bridge  the  river  smoothly  swam,  the  under- 
currents forever  unfolding  themselves  upon  the 
surface  with  a  vast  rose-like  evolution,  edged 
all  round  with  faint  lines  of  white,  where  the 
air  that  filled  the  water  freed  itself  in  foam. 
What  had  been  clear  green  on  the  face  of  the 
cataract  was  here  more  like  rich  verd-antique, 


Niagara  161 


and  had  a  look  of  firmness  almost  like  that  of 
the  stone  itself.  So  it  showed  beneath  the 
bridge,  and  down  the  river  till  the  curving 
shores  hid  it.  These,  springing  abruptly  from 
the  water's  brink,  and  shagged  with  pine  and 
cedar,  displayed  the  tender  verdure  of  grass  and 
bushes  intermingled  with  the  dark  evergreens 
that  climb  from  ledge  to  ledge,  till  they  point 
their  speary  tops  above  the  crest  of  bluffs.  In 
front,  where  tumbled  rocks  and  expanses  of 
naked  clay  varied  the  gloomier  and  gayer  green, 
sprung  those  spectral  mists  ;  and  through  them 
loomed  out,  in  its  manifold  majesty,  Niagara, 
with  the  seemingly  immovable  white  Gothic 
screen  of  the  American  Fall,  and  the  green 
massive  curve  of  the  Horse-Shoe,  solid  and 
simple  and  calm  as  an  Egyptian  wall ;  while 
behind  this,  with  their  white  and  black  expanses 
broken  by  dark  foliaged  little  isles,  the  steep 
Canadian  rapids  billowed  down  between  their 
heavily  wooded  shores. 

The  wedding-journeyers  hung,  they  knew  not 
how  long,  in  rapture  on  the  sight ;  and  then, 
looking  back  from  the  shore  to  the  spot  where 
they  had  stood,  they  felt  relieved  that  unreal- 
ity should  possess  itself  of  all,  and  that  the 
bridge  should  swing  there  in  mid-air  like  a 
filmy  web,  scarce  more  passable  than  the  rain- 
bow that  flings  its  arch  above  the  mists. 


1 62  Their  Wedding  Journey 

On  the  portico  of  the  hotel  they  found  half 
a  score  of  gentlemen  smoking,  and  creating 
together  that  collective  silence  which  passes 
for  sociality  on  our  continent.  Some  carriages 
stood  before  the  door,  and  within,  around  the 
base  of  a  pillar,  sat  a  circle  of  idle  call-boys. 

There  were  a  few  trunks  heaped  together  in 
one  place,  with  a  porter  standing  guard  over 
them  ;  a  solitary  guest  was  buying  a  cigar  at 
the  newspaper  stand  in  one  corner ;  another 
friendless  creature  was  writing  a  letter  in  the 
reading-room  ;  the  clerk,  in  a  seersucker  coat 
and  a  lavish  shirt-bosom,  tried  to  give  the  whole 
an  effect  of  watering-place  gayety  and  bustle,  as 
he  provided  a  newly  arrived  guest  with  a  room. 

Our  pair  took  in  these  traits  of  solitude  and 
repose  with  indifference.  If  the  hotel  had  been 
thronged  with  brilliant  company,  they  would  have 
been  no  more  and  no  less  pleased;  and  when, 
after  supper,  they  came  into  the  grand  parlor, 
and  found  nothing  there  but  a  marble-topped 
centre-table,  with  a  silver-plated  ice-pitcher  and 
a  small  company  of  goblets,  they  sat  down 
perfectly  content  in  a  secluded  window-seat. 
They  were  not  seen  by  the  three  people  who 
entered  soon  after  and  halted  in  the  centre  of 
the  room. 

"  Why,  Kitty !  "  said  one  of  the  two  ladies 
who  must  be  in  any  traveling-party  of  three, 


///  the  Grand  Parlor 


Niagara  165 


"this  is  more  inappropriate  to  your  gorgeous 
array  than  the  supper-room,  even." 

She  who  was  called  Kitty  was  armed,  as  for 
social  conquest,  in  some  kind  of  airy  evening 
dress,  and  was  looking  round  with  bewilderment 
upon  that  forlorn  waste  of  carpeting  and  up- 
holstery. She  owned,  with  a  smile,  that  she 
had  not  seen  so  much  of  the  world  yet  as  she 
had  been  promised  ;  but  she  liked  Niagara  very 
much,  and  perhaps  they  should  find  the  world 
at  breakfast. 

"  No,"  said  the  other  lady,  who  was  as  unquiet 
as  Kitty  was  calm,  and  who  seemed  resolved 
to  make  the  most  of  the  worst,  "  it  is  n't  prob- 
able that  the  hotel  will  fill  up  overnight ;  and 
I  feel  personally  responsible  for  this  state  of 
things.  Who  would  ever  have  supposed  that 
Niagara  would  be  so  empty  ?  I  thought  the 
place  was  thronged  the  whole  summer  long. 
How  do  you  account  for  it,  Richard  ? " 

The  gentleman  looked  fatigued,  as  from  a 
long-continued  discussion  elsewhere  of  the  mat- 
ter in  hand,  and  he  said  that  he  had  not  been 
trying  to  account  for  it. 

"Then  you  don't  care  for  Kitty's  pleasure  at 
all,  and  you  don't  want  her  to  enjoy  herself. 
Why  don't  you  take  some  interest  in  the  mat- 
ter ? " 

"  Why,  if  I  accounted  for  the  emptiness  of 


1 66  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Niagara  in  the  most  satisfactory  way,  it 
would  n't  add  a  soul  to  the  floating  population. 
Under  the  circumstances  I  prefer  to  leave  it 
unexplained." 

"  Do  you  think  it 's  because  it 's  such  a  hot 
summer  ?  Do  you  suppose  it 's  not  exactly  the 
season  ?  Did  n't  you  expect  there  'd  be  more 
people  ?  Perhaps  Niagara  is  n't  as  fashionable 
as  it  used  to  be." 

"  It  looks  something  like  that." 

"Well,  what  under  the  sun  do  you  think  is 
the  reason  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"Perhaps,"  interposed  Kitty  placidly,  "most 
of  the  visitors  go  to  the  other  hotel,  now." 

"It's  altogether  likely,"  said  the  other  lady 
eagerly.  "  There  are  just  such  caprices." 

"  Well,"  said  Richard,  "  I  wanted  you  to  go 
there." 

"  But  you  said  that  you  always  heard  this  was 
the  most  fashionable." 

"  I  know  it.  I  did  n't  want  to  come  here  for 
that  reason.  But  fortune  favors  the  brave." 

"  Well,  it 's  too  bad  !  Here  we  've  asked 
Kitty  to  come  to  Niagara  with  us,  just  to  give 
her  a  little  peep  into  the  world,  and  you  've 
brought  us  to  a  hotel  where  we  're  "  — 

"Monarchs  of  all  we  survey,"  suggested 
Kitty. 


Niagara  167 


"  Yes,  and  start  at  the  sound  of  our  own," 
added  the  other  lady  helplessly. 

"Come  now,  Fanny,"  said  the  gentleman, 
who  was  but  too  clearly  the  husband  of  the  last 
speaker.  "  You  know  you  insisted,  against  all 
I  could  say  or  do,  upon  coming  to  this  house ;  I 
implored  you  to  go  to  the  other,  and  now  you 
blame  me  for  bringing  you  here." 

"  So  I  do.  If  you  'd  let  me  have  my  own  way 
without  opposition  about  coming  here,  I  dare 
say  I  should  have  gone  to  the  other  place.  But 
never  mind.  Kitty  knows  whom  to  blame,  I 
hope.  She  's  your  cousin." 

Kitty  was  sitting  with  her  hands  quiescently 
folded  in  her  lap.  She  now  rose  and  said  that 
she  did  not  know  anything  about  the  other 
hotel,  and  perhaps  it  was  just  as  empty  as  this. 

"  It  can't  be.  There  can't  be  two  hotels  so 
empty,"  said  Fanny.  "  It  don't  stand  to  rea- 
son." 

"  If  you  wish  Kitty  to  see  the  world  so 
much,"  said  the  gentleman,  "why  don't  you 
take  her  on  to  Quebec,  with  us  ? " 

Kitty  had  left  her  seat  beside  Fanny,  and 
was  moving  with  a  listless  content  about  the 
parlor. 

"  I  wonder  you  ask,  Richard,  when  you 
know  she  's  only  come  for  the  night,  and  has 
nothing  with  her  but  a  few  cuffs  and  collars  ! 


1 68  Their  Wedding  Journey 

I  certainly  never  heard  of  anything  so  absurd 
before !  " 

The  absurdity  of  the  idea  then  seemed  to 
cast  its  charm  upon  her,  for,  after  a  silence,  "  I 
could  lend  her  some  things,"  she  said  musingly. 
"  But  don't  speak  of  it  to-night,  please.  It 's  too 
ridiculous.  Kitty!"  she  called  out,  and,  as  the 
young  lady  drew  near,  she  continued,  "How 
would  you  like  to  go  to  Quebec,  with  us  ? " 

"  Oh,  Fanny  ! "  cried  Kitty  with  rapture  ;  and 
then,  with  dismay,  "  How  can  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  very  well,  I  think.  You  've  got  this 
dress,  and  your  traveling-suit ;  and  I  can  lend 
you  whatever  you  want.  Come  !  "  she  added 
joyously,  "let's  go  up  to  your  room,  and  talk  it 
over !  " 

The  two  ladies  vanished  upon  this  impulse, 
and  the  gentleman  followed.  To  their  own 
relief  the  guiltless  eavesdroppers,  who  found 
no  moment  favorable  for  revealing  themselves 
after  the  comedy  began,  issued  from  their  re- 
tiracy. 

"  What  a  remarkable  little  lady  !  "  said  Basil, 
eagerly  turning  to  Isabel  for  sympathy  in  his 
enjoyment  of  her  inconsequence. 

"  Yes,  poor  thing  !  "  returned  his  wife  ;  "  it 's 
no  light  matter  to  invite  a  young  lady  to  take  a 
journey  with  you,  and  promise  her  all  sorts  of 
gayety,  and  perhaps  beaux  and  flirtations,  and 


Niagara  169 


then  find  her  on  your  hands  in  a  desolation  like 
this.  It's  dreadful,  I  think." 

Basil  stared.  "  Oh,  certainly,"  he  said.  "  But 
what  an  amusingly  illogical  little  body  !  " 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean,  Basil. 
It  was  the  only  thing  that  she  could  do,  to  in- 
vite the  young  lady  to  go  on  with  them.  I  won- 
der her  husband  had  the  sense  to  think  of  it 
first.  Of  course  she'll  have  to  lend  her  things." 

"  And  you  did  n't  observe  anything  peculiar 
in  her  way  of  reaching  her  conclusions  ?  " 

"  Peculiar  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  her  blaming  her  husband  for  letting 
her  have  her  own  way  about  the  hotel ;  and  her 
telling  him  not  to  mention  his  proposal  to 
Kitty,  and  then  doing  it  herself,  just  after  she'd 
pronounced  it  absurd  and  impossible."  He 
spoke  with  heat  at  being  forced  to  make  what 
he  thought  a  needless  explanation. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Isabel,  after  a  moment's  reflec- 
tion. "That  !  Did  you  think  it  so  very  odd  ?  " 

Her  husband  looked  at  her  with  the  gravity  a 
man  must  feel  when  he  begins  to  perceive  that 
he  has  married  the  whole  mystifying  world  of 
womankind  in  the  woman  of  his  choice,  and 
made  no  answer.  But  to  his  own  soul  he  said : 
"  I  supposed  I  had  the  pleasure  of  my  wife's 
acquaintance.  It  seems  I  have  been  flattering 
myself," 


1 70  Their  Wedding  Journey 

The  next  morning  they  went  out  as  they  had 
planned,  for  an  exploration  of  Goat  Island,  after 
an  early  breakfast.  As  they  sauntered  through 
the  village's  contrasts  of  pygmy  and  colossal  in 
architecture,  they  praisefully  took  in  the  unal- 
loyed holiday  character  of  the  place,  enjoying 
equally  the  lounging  tourists  at  the  hotel  doors, 
the  drivers  and  their  carriages  to  let,  and  the 
little  shops,  with  nothing  but  mementos  of 
Niagara,  and  Indian  bead-work,  and  other  trum- 
pery, to  sell.  Shops  so  useless,  they  agreed, 
could  not  be  found  outside  the  Palais  Royale, 
or  the  Square  of  St.  Mark,  or  anywhere  else  in 
the  world, but  here.  They  felt  themselves  once 
more  a  part  of  the  tide  of  mere  sight-seeing 
pleasure-travel,  on  which  they  had  drifted  in 
other  days,  and  in  an  eddy  of  which  their  love 
'itself  had  opened  its  white  blossom,  and  lily- 
like  dreamed  upon  the  wave. 

They  were  now  also  part  of  the  great  circle 
of  newly  wedded  bliss,  which,  involving  the 
whole  land  during  the  season  of  bridal  tours, 
may  be  said  to  show  richest  and  fairest  at  Niag- 
ara, like  the  costly  jewel  of  a  precious  ring. 
The  place  is,  in  fact,  almost  abandoned  to  bridal 
couples,  and  any  one  out  of  his  honeymoon  is 
in  some  degree  an  alien  there,  and  must  discern 
a  certain  immodesty  in  his  intrusion.  Is  it  for 
his  profane  eyes  to  look  upon  all  that  blushing 


The  Breakfast- Room  Ordeal 


Niagara  173 

and  trembling  joy?  A  man  of  any  sensibility 
must  desire  to  veil  his  face,  and,  bowing  his 
excuses  to  the  collective  rapture,  take  the  first 
train  for  the  wicked  outside  world  to  which  he 
belongs.  Everywhere,  he  sees  brides  and 
brides.  Three  or  four,  with  the  benediction 
still  on  them,  come  down  in  the  same  car  with 
him ;  he  hands  her  traveling-shawl  after  one  as 
she  springs  from  the  omnibus  into  her  hus- 
band's arms  ;  there  are  two  or  three  walking 
back  and  forth  with  their  new  lords  upon  the 
porch  of  the  hotel ;  at  supper  they  are  on  every 
side  of  him,  and  he  feels  himself  suffused,  as 
it  were,  by  a  roseate  atmosphere  of  youth  and 
love  and  hope.  At  breakfast  it  is  the  same, 
and  then,  in  his  wanderings  about  the  place  he 
constantly  meets  them.  They  are  of  all  man- 
ners of  beauty,  fair  and  dark,  slender  and 
plump,  tall  and  short;  but  they  are  all  beautiful 
with  the  radiance  of  loving  and  being  loved. 
Now,  if  ever  in  their  lives,  they  are  charmingly 
dressed,  and  ravishing  toilets  take  the  willing 
eye  from  the  objects  of  interest.  How  high  the 
heels  of  the  pretty  boots,  how  small  the  ten- 
der-tinted gloves,  how  electrical  the  flutter  of 
the  snowy  skirts !  What  is  Niagara  to  these 
things  ? 

Isabel  was  not  willing  to  own  her  bridal  sis- 
terhood to  these  blessed  souls  ;  but  she  secretly 


174  Their  Wedding  Journey 


rejoiced  in  it,  even  while  she  joined  Basil  in 
noting  their  number  and  smiling  at  their  inno- 
cent abandon.  She  dropped  his  arm  at  encoun- 
ter of  the  first  couple,  and  walked  carelessly  at 
his  side  ;  she  made  a  solemn  vow  never  to  take 
hold  of  his  watch-chain  in  speaking  to  him  ;  she 
trusted  that  she  might  be  preserved  from  put- 
ting her  face  very  close  to  his  at  dinner  in 
studying  the  bill  of  fare ;  getting  out  of  car- 
riages, she  forbade  him  ever  to  take  her  by  the 
waist.  All  ascetic  resolutions  are  modified  by 
experiment ;  but  if  Isabel  did  not  rigorously 
keep  these,  she  is  not  the  less  to  be  praised  for 
having  formed  them. 

Just  before  they  reached  the  bridge  to  Goat 
Island,  they  passed  a  little  group  of  the  Indians 
still  lingering  about  Niagara,  who  make  the 
barbaric  wares  in  which  the  shops  abound,  and, 
like  the  woods  and  the  wild  faces  of  the  cliffs 
and  precipices,  help  to  keep  the  cataract  remote, 
and  to  invest  it  with  the  charm  of  primeval 
loneliness.  This  group  were  women,  and  they 
sat  motionless  on  the  ground,  smiling  sphinx- 
like  over  their  laps  full  of  beadwork,  and  turn- 
ing their  dark  liquid  eyes  of  invitation  upon  the 
passers.  They  wore  bright  kirtles,  and  red 
shawls  fell  from  their  heads  over  their  plump 
brown  cheeks  and  down  their  comfortable  per- 
sons. A  little  girl  with  them  was  attired  in 


Niagara  175 


like  gayety  of  color.  "  What  is  her  name  ?  " 
asked  Isabel,  paying  for  a  bead  pincushion. 
"Daisy  Smith,"  said  her  mother,  in  distress- 
ingly good  English.  "  But  her  Indian  name  ?  " 

"  She  has  none,"  answered  the  woman,  who 
told  Basil  that  her  village  numbered  five  hun- 
dred people,  and  that  they  were  Protestants. 
While  they  talked  they  were  joined  by  an 
Indian,  whom  the  women  saluted  musically  in 
their  native  tongue.  This  was  somewhat  con- 
soling ;  but  he  wore  trousers  and  a  waistcoat, 
and  it  could  have  been  wished  that  he  had  not 
a  silk  hat  on. 

"  Still,"  said  Isabel,  as  they  turned  away, 
"I'm  glad  he  hasn't  Lisle-thread  gloves,  like 
that  chieftain  we  saw  putting  his  forest  queen 
on  board  the  train  at  Oneida.  But  how  shock- 
ing that  they  should  be  Christians,  and  Protest- 
ants !  It  would  have  been  bad  enough  to  have 
them  Catholics.  And  that  woman  said  that 
they  were  increasing.  They  ought  to  be  fading 
away." 

On  the  bridge,  they  paused  and  looked  up 
and  down  the  rapids  rushing  down  the  slope  in 
all  their  wild  variety,  with  the  white  crests  of 
breaking  surf,  the  dark  massiveness  of  heavy- 
climbing  waves,  the  fleet,  smooth  sweep  of  cur- 
rents over  broad  shelves  of  sunken  rock,  the 
dizzy  swirl  and  suck  of  whirlpools. 


176  Their  Wedding  Jojirney 

Spellbound,  the  journeyers  pored  upon  the 
deathful  course  beneath  their  feet,  gave  a  shud- 
der to  the  horror  of  being  cast  upon  it,  and  then 
hurried  over  the  bridge  to  the  island,  in  the 
shadow  of  whose  wildness  they  sought  refuge 
from  the  sight  and  sound. 

There  had  been  rain  in  the  night ;  the  air  was 
full  of  forest  fragrance,  and  the  low,  sweet  voice 
of  twittering  birds.  Presently  they  came  to  a 
bench  set  in  a  corner  of  the  path,  and  command- 
ing a  pleasant  vista  of  sunlit  foliage,  with  a  mere 
gleam  of  the  foaming  river  beyond.  As  they 
sat  down  here  loverwise,  Basil,  as  in  the  early 
days  of  their  courtship,  began  to  recite  a  poem. 
It  was  one  which  had  been  haunting  him  since 
his  first  sight  of  the  rapids,  one  of  many  that  he 
used  to  learn  by  heart  in  his  youth  —  the  rhyme 
of  some  poor  newspaper  poet,  whom  the  third  or 
fourth  editor  copying  his  verses  consigned  to 
oblivion  by  carelessly  clipping  his  name  from 
the  bottom.  It  had  always  lingered  in  Basil's 
memory,  rather  from  the  interest  of  the  awful 
fact  it  recorded,  than  from  any  merit  of  its 
own  ;  and  now  he  recalled  it  with  a  distinctness 
that  surprised  him. 


A  Shady  Seat  on  the  Island 


Niagara  179 


AVERY. 


All  night  long  they  heard  in  the  houses  beside  the  shore, 
Heard,  or  seemed  to  hear,  through  the  multitudinous  roar, 
Out  of  the  hell  of  the  rapids  as  't  were  a  lost  soul's  cries : 
Heard  and  could  not  believe  ;  and  the  morning  mocked  their 

eyes, 

Showing  where  wildest  and  fiercest  the  waters  leaped  up  and  ran, 
Raving  round  him  and  past,  the  visage  of  a  man 
Clinging,  or  seeming  to  cling,  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree  that,  caught 
Fast  in  the  rocks  below,  scarce  out  of  the  surges  raught. 
Was  it  a  life,  could  it  be,  to  yon  slender  hope  that  clung  ? 
Shrill,  above  all  the  tumult  the  answering  terror  rung. 


Under  the  weltering  rapids  a  boat  from  the  bridge  is  drowned, 
Over  the  rocks  the  lines  of  another  are  tangled  and  wound, 
And  the  long,  fateful  hours  of  the  morning  have  wasted  soon, 
As  it  had  been  in  some  blessed  trance,  and  now  it  is  noon. 
Hurry,  now  with  the  raft !     But  oh,  build  it  strong  and  stanch, 
And  to  the  lines  and  the  treacherous  rocks  look  well  as  you 

launch 

Over  the  foamy  tops  of  the  waves,  and  their  foam-sprent  sides, 
Over  the  hidden  reefs,  and  through  the  embattled  tides, 
Onward  rushes  the  raft,  with  many  a  lurch  and  leap,  — 
Lord  !  if  it  strike  him  loose  from  the  hold  he  scarce  can  keep  ! 
No  !  through  all  peril  unharmed,  it  reaches  him  harmless  at 

last 

And  to  its  proven  strength  he  lashes  his  weakness  fast. 
Now,  for  the  shore  !     But  steady,  steady,  my  men,  and  slow ; 
Taut,  now,  the  quivering  lines ;  now  slack  ;  and  so,  let  her  go ! 
Thronging  the  shores  around  stands  the  pitying  multitude  ; 
Wan  as  his  own  are  their  looks,  and  a  nightmare  seems  to  brood 
Heavy  upon  them,  and  heavy  the  silence  hangs  on  all, 
Save  for  the  rapids'  plunge,  and  the  thunder  of  the  fall. 


180  Their  Wedding  Journey 


But  on  a  sudden  thrills  from  the  people  still  and  pale, 
Chorusing  his  unheard  despair,  a  desperate  wail : 
Caught  on  a  lurking  point  of  rock  it  sways  and  swings, 
Sport  of  the  pitiless  waters,  the  raft  to  which  he  clings. 

in. 

All  the  long  afternoon  it  idly  swings  and  sways  ; 
And  on  the  shore  the  crowd  lifts  up  its  hands  and  prays : 
Lifts  to  heaven  and  wrings  the  hands  so  helpless  to  save, 
Prays  for  the  mercy  of  God  on  him  whom  the  rock  and  the 

wave 

Battle  for,  fettered  betwixt  them,  and  who  amidst  their  strife 
Struggles  to  help  his  helpers,  and  fights  so  hard  for  his  life,  — 
Tugging  at  rope  and  at  reef,  while  men  weep  and  women  swoon. 
Priceless  second  by  second,  so  wastes  the  afternoon. 
And  it  is  sunset  now ;  and  another  boat  and  the  last 
Down  to  him  from  the  bridge  through  the  rapids  has  safely 

passed. 

IV. 

Wild  through  the  crowd  comes  flying  a  man  that  nothing  can 

stay, 

Maddening  against  "the  gate  that  is  locked  athwart  his  way. 
"  No  !  we  keep  the  bridge  for  them  that  can  help  him.     You, 
Tell  us,  who  are  you  ? "    "  His  brother  !  "    "  God  help  you  both  ! 

Pass  through." 

Wild,  with  wide  arms  of  imploring  he  calls  aloud  to  him, 
Unto  the  face  of  his  brother,  scarce  seen  in  the  distance  dim ; 
But  in  the  roar  of  the  rapids  his  fluttering  words  are  lost, 
As  in  a  wind  of  autumn  the  leaves  of  autumn  are  tossed, 
And  from  the  bridge  he  sees  his  brother  sever  the  rope 
Holding  him  to  the  raft,  and  rise  secure  in  his  hope ; 
Sees  all  as  in  a  dream  the  terrible  pageantry,  — 
Populous  shores,  the  woods,  the  sky,  the  birds  flying  free  ; 
Sees,  then,  the  form  —  that,  spent  with  effort  and  fasting  and 

fear, 
Flings  itself  feebly  and  fails  of  the  boat  that  is  lying  so  near,  — 


Niagara  181 


Caught  in  the  long-baffled  clutch  of  the  rapids,  and  rolled  and 

hurled 
Headlong  on  to  the  cataract's  brink,  and  out  of  the  world. 

"  O  Basil ! "  said  Isabel,  with  a  long  sigh 
breaking  the  hush  that  best  praised  the  unknown 
post's  skill,  "it  z>n't  true,  is  it  ? " 

"  Every  word,  almost,  even  to  the  brother's 
coming  at  the  last  moment.  It 's  a  very  well- 
known  incident,"  he  added ;  and  I  am  sure  the 
reader  whose  memory  runs  back  twenty  years 
cannot  have  forgotten  it. 

Niagara,  indeed,  is  an  awful  homicide  ;  nearly 
every  point  of  interest  about  the  place  has  killed 
its  man,  and  there  might  well  be  a  deeper  stain 
of  crimson  than  it  ever  wears  in  that  pretty  bow 
overarching  the  falls.  Its  beauty  is  relieved 
against  an  historical  background  as  gloomy  as 
the  lightest-hearted  tourist  could  desire.  The 
abominable  savages,  revering  the  cataract  as  a 
kind  of  august  devil,  and  leading  a  life  of  demon- 
iacal misery  and  wickedness,  whom  the  first 
Jesuits  found  here  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  the 
ferocious  Iroquois  bloodily  driving  out  these 
squalid  devil-worshipers  ;  the  French  planting 
the  fort  that  yet  guards  the  mouth  of  the  river, 
and  therewith  the  seeds  of  war  that  fruited 
afterwards  in  murderous  strifes  throughout  the 
whole  Niagara  country  ;  the  struggle  for  the 
military  posts  on  the  river,  during  the  wars  of 


1 82  Their  Wedding  Journey 

France  and  England  ;  the  awful  scene  in  the 
conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  where  a  detachment  of 
English  troops  was  driven  by  the  Indians  over 
the  precipice  near  the  great  Whirlpool ;  the  sor- 
row and  havoc  visited  upon  the  American  settle- 
ments in  the  Revolution  by  the  savages  who 
prepared  their  attacks  in  the  shadow  of  Fort 
Niagara ;  the  battles  of  Chippewaand  of  Lundy's 
Lane,  that  mixed  the  roar  of  their  cannon  with 
that  of  the  fall ;  the  savage  forays  with  toma- 
hawk and  scalping-knife,  and  the  blazing  villages 
on  either  shore  in  the  War  of  1812,  —  these  are 
the  memories  of  the  place,  the  links  in  a  chain 
of  tragical  interest  scarcely  broken  before  our 
time  since  the  white  man  first  'beheld  the  mist- 
veiled  face  of  Niagara.  The  facts  lost  nothing 
of  their  due  effect  as  Basil,  in  the  ramble,  across 
Goat  Island,  touched  them  with  the  reflected 
light  of  Mr.  Parkman's  histories,  —  those  pre- 
cious books  that  make  our  meagre  past  wear 
something  of  the  rich  romance  of  old  European 
days,  and  illumine  its  savage  solitudes  with  the 
splendor  of  mediaeval  chivalry,  and  the  glory  of 
mediaeval  martyrdom, — and  then,  lacking  this 
light,  turned  upon  them  the  feeble  glimmer  of 
the  guide-books.  He  and  Isabel  enjoyed  the 
lurid  picture  with  all  the  zest  of  sentimentalists 
dwelling  upon  the  troubles  of  other  times  from 
the  shelter  of  the  safe  and  peaceful  present. 


Niagara  183 


They  were  both  poets  in  their  quality  of  bridal 
couple,  and  so  long  as  their  own  nerves  were 
unshaken  they  could  transmute  all  facts  to  enter- 
taining fables.  They  pleasantly  exercised  their 
sympathies  upon  those  who  every  year  perish 
at  Niagara  in  the  tradition  of  its  awful  power ; 
only  they  refused  their  cheap  and  selfish  com- 
passion to  the  Hermit  of  Goat  Island,  who 
dwelt  so  many  years  in  its  conspicuous  seclu- 
sion, and  was  finally  carried  over  the  cataract. 
This  public  character  they  suspected  of  design 
in  his  death  as  in  his  life,  and  they  would  not  be 
moved  by  his  memory  ;  though  they  gave  a  sigh 
to  that  dream,  half  pathetic,  half  ludicrous,  yet 
not  ignoble,  of  Mordecai  Noah,  who  thought 
to  assemble  all  the  Jews  of  the  world,  and  all 
the  Indians,  as  remnants  of  the  lost  tribes,  upon 
Grand  Island,  there  to  rebuild  Jerusalem,  and 
who  actually  laid  the  corner-stone  of  the  new 
temple  there. 

Goat  Island  is  marvelously  wild  for  a  place 
visited  by  so  many  thousands  every  year.  The 
shrubbery  and  undergrowth  remain  unravaged, 
and  form  a  deceitful  privacy,  in  which,  even  at 
that  early  hour  of  the  day,  they  met  many  other 
pairs.  It  seemed  incredible  that  the  village 
and  the  hotels  should  be  so  full,  and  that  the 
wilderness  should  also  abound  in  them  ;  yet  on 
every  embowered  seat,  and  going  to  and  from 


184 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


all  points  of  interest  and  danger,  were  these 
new-wedded  lovers  with  their  interlacing  arms 
and  their  fond  attitudes,  in  which  each  seemed 
to  support  and  lean  upon  the  other.  Such  a 
pair  stood  prominent  before  them  when  Basil 
and  Isabel  emerged  at  last  from  the  cover  of 
the  woods  at  the  head  of  the  island,  and  glanced 


Public  Love-Making 


up  the  broad  swift  stream  to  the  point  where  it 
ran  smooth  before  breaking  into  the  rapids ; 
and  as  a  soft  pastoral  feature  in  the  foreground 
of  that  magnificent  landscape,  they  found  them 


Niagara  185 


far  from  unpleasing.  Some  such  pair  is  in  the 
foreground  of  every  famous  American  land- 
scape ;  and  when  I  think  of  the  amount  of  pub- 
lic love-making  in  the  season  of  pleasure-travel, 
from  Mount  Desert  to  the  Yosemite,  and  from 
the  parks  of  Colorado  to  the  Keys  of  Florida,  I 
feel  that  our  continent  is  but  a  larger  Arcady, 
that  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  the 
golden  age,  and  that  we  want  very  little  of  be- 
ing a  nation  of  shepherds  and  shepherdesses. 

Our  friends  returned  by  the  shore  of  the 
Canadian  rapids,  having  traversed  the  island  by 
a  path  through  the  heart  of  the  woods,  and  now 
drew  slowly  near  the  Falls  again.  All  parts  of 
the  prodigious  pageant  have  an  eternal  novelty, 
and  they  beheld  the  ever-varying  effect  of  that 
constant  sublimity  with  the  sense  of  discov- 
erers, or  rather  of  people  whose  great  fortune 
it  is  to  see  the  marvel  in  its  beginning,  and  new 
from  the  creating  hand.  The  morning  hour 
"lent  its  sunny  charm  to  this  illusion,  while  in 
the  cavernous  precipices  of  the  shores,  dark 
with  evergreens,  a  mystery  as  of  primeval  night 
seemed  to  linger.  There  was  a  wild  fluttering 
of  their  nerves,  a  rapture  with  an  under-con- 
sciousness  of  pain,  the  exaltation  of  peril  and 
escape,  when  they  came  to  the  three  little  isles 
that  extend  from  Goat  Island,  one  beyond 
another  far  out  into  the  furious  channel.  Three 


1 86  Their  Wedding  Journey 

pretty  suspension  bridges  connect  them  now 
with  the  larger  island,  and  under  each  of  these 
flounders  a  huge  rapid,  and  hurls  itself  away  to 
mingle  with  the  ruin  of  the  fall.  The  Three 
Sisters  are  mere  fragments  of  wilderness, 
clumps  of  vine-tangled  woods,  planted  upon 
masses  of  rock ;  but  they  are  part  of  the  fasci- 
nation of  Niagara  which  no  one  resists  ;  nor 
could  Isabel  have  been  persuaded  from  explor- 
ing them.  It  wants  no  courage  to  do  this,  but 
merely  submission  to  the  local  sorcery,  and  the 
adventurer  has  no  other  reward  than  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  where  but  a  few 
years  before  no  human  being  had  perhaps  set 
foot.  She  crossed  from  bridge  to  bridge  with  a 
quaking  heart,  and  at  last  stood  upon  the  outer- 
most isle,  whence,  through  the  screen  of  vines 
and  boughs,  she  gave  fearful  glances  at  the 
heaving  and  tossing  flood  beyond,  from  every 
wave  of  which  at  every  instant  she  rescued  her- 
self with  a  desperate  struggle.  The  exertion 
told  heavily  upon  her  strength  unawares,  and 
she  suddenly  made  Basil  another  revelation  of 
character.  Without  the  slightest  warning  she 
sank  down  at  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  said,  with 
serious  composure,  that  she  could  never  go 
back  on  those  bridges  ;  they  were  not  safe. 
He  stared  at  her  cowering  form  in  blank  amaze, 
and  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Then  it  oc- 


Niagara  187 


curred  to  his  dull  masculine  sense  that  it  must 
be  a  joke ;  and  he  said,  "  Well,  I  '11  have  you 
taken  off  in  a  boat." 

"  Oh,  do,  Basil,  do  have  me  taken  off  in  a 
boat ! "  implored  Isabel.  "  You  see  yourself 
the  bridges  are  not  safe.  Do  get  a  boat." 

"  Or  a  balloon,"  he  suggested,  humoring  the 
pleasantry. 

Isabel  burst  into  tears  ;  and  now  he  went  on 
his  knees  at  her  side,  and  took  her  hands  in  his. 
"Isabel!  Isabel!  Are  you  crazy?"  he  cried, 
as  if  he  meant  to  go  mad  himself.  She  moaned 
and  shuddered  in  reply;  he  said,  to  mend  mat- 
ters, that  it  was  a  jest,  about  the  boat ;  and  he 
was  driven  to  despair  when  Isabel  repeated,  "  I 
never  can  go  back  by  the  bridges,  never." 

"  But  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know  !  " 

He  would  try  sarcasm.  "Do  you  intend  to 
set  up  a  hermitage  here,  and  have  your  meals 
sent  out  from  the  hotel  ?  It 's  a  charming  spot, 
and  visited  pretty  constantly ;  but  it 's  small, 
even  for  a  hermitage." 

Isabel  moaned  again  with  her  hands  still  on 
her  eyes,  and  wondered  that  he  was  not 
ashamed  to  make  fun  of  her. 

He  would  try  kindness.  "  Perhaps,  darling, 
you  '11  let  me  carry  you  ashore." 

"  No,  that  will  bring  double  the  weight  on  the 
bridge  at  once." 


1 88  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  Could  n't  you  shut  your  eyes,  and  let  me 
lead  you  ? " 

"Why,  it  is  n't  the  sight  of  the  rapids,"  she 
said,  looking  up  fiercely.  "  The  bridges  are  not 
safe.  I  'm  not  a  child,  Basil.  Oh,  what  shall 
we  do?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Basil  gloomily.  "  It  's 
an  exigency  for  which  I  wasn't  prepared." 
Then  he  silently  gave  himself  to  the  Evil  One 
for  having  probably  overwrought  Isabel's  nerves 
by  repeating  that  poem  about  Avery,  and  by 
the  ensuing  talk  about  Niagara,  which  she  had 
seemed  to  enjoy  so  much.  He  asked  her  if 
that  was  it ;  and  she  answered,  "  Oh  no,  it 's  no- 
thing but  the  bridges."  He  proved  to  her  that 
the  bridges,  upon  all  known  principles,  were 
perfectly  safe,  and  that  they  could  not  give 
way.  She  shook  her  head,  but  made  no  answer, 
and  he  lost  his  patience. 

"  Isabel,"  he  cried,  "  I  'm  ashamed  of  you !  " 

"  Don't  say  anything  you  '11  be  sorry  for  after- 
wards, Basil,"  she  replied,  with  the  forbearance 
of  those  who  have  reason  and  justice  on  their 
side. 

The  rapids  beat  and  shouted  round  their  little 
prison-isle,  each  billow  leaping  as  if  possessed  by 
a  separate  demon.  The  absurd  horror  of  the 
situation  overwhelmed  him.  He  dared  not  at- 
tempt to  carry  her  ashore,  for  she  might  spring 


Niagara  189 


from  his  grasp  into  the  flood.  He  could  not 
leave  her  to  call  for  help ;  and  what  if  nobody 
came  till  she  lost  her  mind  from  terror?  Or, 
what  if  somebody  should  come  and  find  them 
in  that'  ridiculous  affliction  ? 

Somebody  was  coming ! 

"  Isabel ! "  he  shouted  in  her  ear,  "here  come 
those  people  we  saw  in  the  parlor  last  night." 

Isabel  dashed  her  veil  over  her  face,  clutched 
Basil's  with  her  icy  hand,  rose,  drew  her  arm 
convulsively  through  his,  and  walked  ashore 
without  a  word. 

In  a  sheltered  nook  they  sat  down,  and  she 
quickly  " repaired  her  drooping  head  and  tricked 
her  beams"  again.  He  could  see  her  tearfully 
smiling  through  her  veil.  "  My  dear,"  he  said, 
"  I  don't  ask  an  explanation  of  your  fright,  for 
I  don't  suppose  you  could  give  it.  But  should 
you  mind  telling  me  why  those  people  were  so 
sovereign  against  it  ? " 

"  Why,  dearest !  Don't  you  understand  ?  That 
Mrs.  Richard  —  whoever  she  is  —  is  so  much 
like  me." 

She  looked  at  him  as  if  she  had  made  the 
most  satisfying  statement,  and  he  thought  he 
had  better  not  ask  further  then,  but  wait  in 
hope  that  the  meaning  would  come  to  him. 
They  walked  on  in  silence  till  they  came  to 
the  Biddle  Stairs,  at  the  head  of  which  is  a 


190  Their  Wedding  Journey 

notice  that  persons  have  been  killed  by  pieces 
of  rock  from  the  precipice  overhanging  the 
shore  below,  and  warning  people  that  they 
descend  at  their  peril.  Isabel  declined  to  visit 
the  Cave  of  the  Winds,  to  which  these  stairs 
lead,  but  was  willing  to  risk  the  ascent  of 
Terrapin  Tower.  "Thanks;  no,"  said  her  hus- 
band. "  You  might  find  it  unsafe  to  come  back 
the  way  you  went  up.  We  can't  count  cer- 
tainly upon  the  appearance  of  the  lady  who 
is  so  much  like  you ;  and  I  've  no  fancy  for 
spending  my  life  on  Terrapin  Tower."  So  he 
found  her  a  seat,  and  went  alone  to  the  top 
of  the  audacious  little  structure  standing  on 
the  verge  of  the  cataract,  between  the  smooth 
curve  of  the  Horse-Shoe  and  the  sculptured 
front  of  the  Central  Fall,  with  the  stormy  sea 
of  the  Rapids  behind,  and  the  river,  dim  seen 
through  the  mists,  crawling  away  between  its 
lofty  bluffs  before.  He  knew  again  the  awful 
delight  with  which  so  long  ago  he  had  watched 
the  changes  in  the  beauty  of  the  Canadian  Fall 
as  it  hung  a  mass  of  translucent  green  from 
the  brink,  and  a  pearly  white  seemed  to  crawl 
up  from  the  abyss  and  penetrate  all  its  sub- 
stance to  the  very  crest,  and  then  suddenly 
vanished  from  it,  and  perpetually  renewed  the 
same  effect.  The  mystery  of  the  rising  vapors 
veiled  the  gulf  into  which  the  cataract  swooped ; 


Niagara 


191 


the  sun  shone,  and   a   rainbow  dreamed    upon 
them. 

Near  the  foot  of  the  tower,  some  loose  rocks 
extend  quite  to  the  verge,  and  here  Basil  saw 


The  Frisky  Elderly  Gentleman 

an  elderly  gentleman  skipping  from  one  slippery 
stone  to  another,  and  looking  down  from  time 
to  time  into  the  abyss,  who,  when  he  had 
amused  himself  long  enough  in  this  way, 
clambered  up  on  the  plank  bridge.  Basil,  who 
had  descended  by  this  time,  made  bold  to  say 
that  he  thought  the  diversion  an  odd  one  and 
rather  dangerous.  The  gentleman  took  this  in 


192  Their  Wedding  Journey 

good  part,  and  owned  it  might  seem  so,  but  added 
that  a  distinguished  phrenologist  had  examined 
his  head,  and  told  him  he  had  equilibrium  so 
large  that  he  could  go  anywhere. 

"On  your  bridal  tour,  I  presume,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  they  approached  the  bench  where 
Basil  had  left  Isabel.  She  had  now  the  com- 
pany of  a  plain,  middle-aged  woman,  whose 
attire  hesitatingly  expressed  some  inward  fes- 
tivity, and  had  a  certain  reluctant  fashionable- 
ness.  "  Well,  this  is  my  third  bridal  tour  to 
Niagara,  and  wife  's  been  here  once  before  on 
the  same  business.  We  see  a  good  many 
changes.  I  used  to  stand  on  Table  Rock  with 
the  others.  Now  that 's  all  gone.  Well,  old 
lady,  shall  we  move  on  ?  "  he  asked  ;  and  this 
bridal  pair  passed  up  the  path,  attended,  haply, 
by  the  guardian  spirits  of  those  who  gave  the 
place  so  many  sad  yet  pleasing  associations. 

At  dinner,  Mr.  Richard's  party  sat  at  the 
table  next  Basil's,  and  they  were  all  now  talking 
cheerfully  over  the  emptiness  of  the  spacious 
dining-hall. 

"  Well,  Kitty,"  the  married  lady  was  saying, 
"  you  can  tell  the  girls  what  you  please  about 
the  gayeties  of  Niagara,  when  you  get  home. 
They  '11  believe  anything  sooner  than  the 
truth." 

"  Oh  yes,  indeed,"    said    Kitty,  "  I  've  got  a 


Niagara  193 

good  deal  of  it  made  up  already.  I  '11  describe 
a  grand  hop  at  the  hotel,  with  fashionable 
people  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  the 
gentlemen  I  danced  with  the  most.  I  'm  going 
to  have  had  quite  a  flirtation  with  the  gentle- 
man of  the  long  blond  mustache,  whom  we 
met  on  the  bridge  this  morning,  and  he's  got  to 
do  duty  in  accounting  for  my  missing  glove. 
It  '11  never  do  to  tell  the  girls  I  dropped  it  from 
the  top  of  Terrapin  Tower.  Then  you  know, 
Fanny,  I  really  can  say  something  about  dining 
with  aristocratic  Southerners,  waited  upon  by 
their  black  servants." 

This  referred  to  the  sad-faced  patrician  whom 
Basil  and  Isabel  had  noted  in  the  cars  from 
Buffalo  as  a  Southerner  probably  coming  North 
for  the  first  time  since  the  war.  He  had  an  air 
at  once  fierce  and  sad,  and  a  half-barbaric,  hom- 
icidal gentility  of  manner  fascinating  enough  in 
its  way.  He  sat  with  his  wife  at  a  table  farther 
down  the  room,  and  their  child  was  served  in 
part  by  a  little  tan-colored  nurse-maid.  The 
fact  did  not  quite  answer  to  the  young  lady's 
description  of  it,  and  yet  it  certainly  afforded 
her  a  ground-work.  Basil  fancied  a  sort  of 
bewilderment  in  the  Southerner,  and  explained 
it  upon  the  theory  that  he  used  to  come  every 
year  to  Niagara  before  the  war,  and  was  now 
puzzled  to  find  it  so  changed. 


194  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  can't  account  for  him 
except  as  the  ghost  of  Southern  travel,  and  I 
can't  help  feeling  a  little  sorry  for  him.  I 
suppose  that  almost  any  evil  commends  itself 
by  its  ruin  ;  the  wrecks  of  slavery  are  fast 
growing  a  fungous  crop  of  sentiment,  and  they 
may  yet  outflourish  the  remains  of  the  feudal 
system  in  the  kind  of  poetry  they  produce. 
The  impoverished  slaveholder  is  a  pathetic 
figure,  in  spite  of  all  justice  and  reason  ;  the 
beaten  rebel  does  move  us  to  compassion,  and 
it  is  of  no  use  to  think  of  Andersonville  in  his 
presence.  This  gentleman,  and  others  like 
him,  used  to  be  the  lords  of  our  summer  resorts. 
They  spent  the  "money  they  did  not  earn  like 
princes  ;  they  held  their  heads  high  ;  they 
trampled  upon  the  Abolitionist  in  his  lair ;  they 
received  the  homage  of  the  dough-face  in  his 
home.  They  came  up  here  from  their  rice- 
swamps  and  cotton-fields,  and  bullied  the  whole 
busy  civilization  of  the  North.  Everybody  who 
had  merchandise  or  principles  to  sell  truckled 
to  them,  and  travel  amongst  us  was  a  triumphal 
progress.  Now  they're  moneyless  and  subju- 
gated (as  they  call  it),  there 's  none  so  poor  to 
do  them  reverence,  and  it 's  left  for  me,  an  Abo- 
litionist from  the  cradle,  to  sigh  over  their  fate. 
After  all,  they  had  noble  traits,  and  it  was  no 
great  wonder  they  got  to  despise  us,  seeing 


Niagara 


'95 


what  most  of  us  were.  It  seems  to  me  I  should 
like  to  know  our  friend.  I  can't  help  feeling 
towards  him  as  towards  a  fallen  prince,  heaven 
help  my  craven  spirit !  I  wonder  how  our 
colored  waiter  feels  towards  him.  I  dare  say  he 
admires  him  immensely." 

There  were  not  above  a  dozen  other  people 
in  the   room,  and  Basil    contrasted   the    scene 


The  Empty  Dining-Room 

with  that  which  the  same  place "  formerly  pre- 
sented. "  In  the  old  time,"  he  said,  "  every 
table  was  full,  and  we  dined  to  the  music  of  a 
brass  band.  I  can't  say  I  liked  the  band,  but  I 


196  Their  Wedding  Journey 


miss  it.  I  wonder  if  our  Southern  friend  misses 
it  ?  They  gave  us  a  very  small  allowance  of 
brass  band  when  we  arrived,  Isabel.  Upon  my 
word,  I  wonder  what 's  come  over  the  place," 
he  said,  as  the  Southern  party,  rising  from  the 
table,  walked  out  of  the  dining-room,  attended 
by  many  treacherous  echoes  in  spite  of  an 
ostentatious  clatter  of  dishes  that  the  waiters 
made. 

After  dinner  they  drove  on  the  Canada  shore 
up  past  the  Clifton  House,  towards  the  Burning 
Spring,  which  is  not  the  least  wonder  of  Niag- 
ara. As  each  bubble  breaks  upon  the  troubled 
surface,  and  yields  its  flash  of  infernal  flame  and 
its  whiff  of  sulphurous  stench,  it  seems  hardly 
strange  that  the  Neutral  Nation  should  have 
revered  the  cataract  as  a  demon  ;  and  another 
subtle  spell  (not  to  be  broken  even  by  the  busi- 
ness-like composure  of  the  man  who  shows  off 
the  hell-broth)  is  added  to  those  successive  sor- 
ceries by  which  Niagara  gradually  changes  from 
a  thing  of  beauty  to  a  thing  of  terror.  By  all 
odds,  too,  the  most  tremendous  view  of  the 
Falls  is  afforded  by  the  point  on  this  drive 
whence  you  look  down  upon  the  Horse-Shoe, 
and  behold  its  three  massive  walls  of  sea  round- 
ing and  sweeping  into  the  gulf  together,  the 
color  gone,  and  the  smooth  brink  showing  black 
and  ridgy. 


Niagara  197 


Would  they  not  go  to  the  battle-field  of 
Lundy's  Lane  ?  asked  the  driver  at  a  certain 
point  on  their  return  ;  but  Isabel  did  not  care 
for  battle-fields,  and  Basil  preferred  to  keep 
intact  the  reminiscence  of  his  former  visit. 
"  They  have  a  sort  of  tower  of  observation  built 
on  the  battle-ground,"  he  said,  as  they  drove  on 
down  by  the  river,  "  and  it  was  in  charge  of  an 
old  Canadian  militia-man,  who  had  helped  his 
countrymen  to  be  beaten  in  the  fight.  This 
hero  gave  me  a  simple  and  unintelligible  account 
of  the  battle,  asking  me  first  if  I  had  ever  heard 
of  General  Scott,  and  adding  without  flinching 
that  here  he  got  his  earliest  laurels.  He  seemed 
to  go  just  so  long  to  every  listener,  and  nothing 
could  stop  him  short,  so  I  fell  into  a  reverie 
until  he  came  to  an  end.  It  was  hard  to  remem- 
ber, that  sweet  summer  morning,  when  the  sun 
shone,  and  the  birds  sang,  and  the  music  of  a 
piano  and  a  girl's  voice  rose  from  a  bowery  cot- 
tage near,  that  all  the  pure  air  had  once  been 
tainted  with  battle-smoke,  that  the  peaceful  fields 
had  been  planted  with  cannon,  instead  of  pota- 
toes and  corn,  and  that  where  the  cows  came 
down  the  farmer's  lane,  with  tinkling  bells,  the 
shock  of  armed  men  had  befallen.  The  blue  and 
tranquil  Ontario  gleamed  far  away,  and  far  away 
rolled  the  beautiful  land,  with  farmhouses,  fields, 
and  woods,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  lay  the 


198  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

pretty  village.  The  battle  of  the  past  seemed 
only  a  vagary  of  mine  ;  yet  how  could  I  doubt 
the  warrior  at  my  elbow  ?  —  grieved  though  I 
was  to  find  that  a  habit  of  strong  drink  had  the 
better  of  his  utterance  that  morning.  My  driver 
explained  afterwards,  that  persons  visiting  the 
field  were  commonly  so  much  pleased  with  the 
captain's  eloquence  that  they  kept  the  noble 
old  soldier  in  a  br an dy-and- water  rapture  through- 
out the  season,  thereby  greatly  refreshing  his 
memory,  and  making  the  battle  bloodier  and 
bloodier  as  the  season  advanced  and  the  number 
of  visitors  increased.  There  my  dear,"  he  sud- 
denly broke  off,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  a 
slender  stream  of  water  that  escaped  from  the 
brow  of  a  cliff  on  the  American  side  below  the 
Falls,  and  spun  itself  into  a  gauze  of  silvery 
mist,  "that 's  the  Bridal  Veil ;  and  I  suppose  you 
think  the  stream,  which  is  making  such  a  fine 
display,  yonder,  is  some  idle  brooklet,  ending  a 
long  course  of  error  and  worthlessness  by  that 
spectacular  plunge.  It 's  nothing  of  the  kind  ; 
it 's  an  honest  hydraulic  canal,  of  the  most 
straightforward  character ;  a  poor  but  respect- 
able mill-race  which  has  devoted  itself  strictly 
to  business,  and  has  turned  mill-wheels  instead 
of  fooling  round  water-lilies.  It  can  afford  that 
ultimate  finery.  What  you  behold  in  the  Bridal 
Veil,  my  love,  is  the  apotheosis  of  industry." 


Niagara  199 


"What  I  can't  help  thinking  of,"  said  Isabel, 
who  had  not  paid  the  smallest  attention  to  the 
Bridal  Veil,  or  anything  about  it,  "  is  the  awful- 
ness  of  stepping  off  these  places  in  the  night- 
time." She  referred  to  the  road  which,  next 
the  precipice,  is  unguarded  by  any  sort  of  par- 
apet. In  Europe  a  strong  wall  would  secure  it, 
but  we  manage  things  differently  on  our  con- 
tinent, and  carriages  go  ruining  over  the  brink 
from  time  to  time. 

"  If  your  thoughts  have  that  direction,"  an- 
swered her  husband,  "  we  had  better  go  back  to 
the  hotel,  and  leave  the  Whirlpool  for  to-morrow 
morning.  It 's  late  for  it  to-day,  at  any  rate." 
He  had  treated  Isabel  since  the  adventure  on 
the  Three  Sisters  with  a  superiority  which  he 
felt  himself  to  be  very  odious,  but  which  he 
could  not  disuse. 

"I'm  not  afraid,"  she  sighed,  "but  in  the 
words  of  the  retreating  soldier,  *  I  'm  awfully 
demoralized  ; '  "  and  added,  "  You  know  we  must 
reserve  some  of  the  vital  forces  for  shopping 
this  evening." 

Part  of  their  business,  also,  was  to  buy  the 
tickets  for  their  return  to  Boston  by  way  of 
Montreal  and  Quebec,  and  it  was  part  of  their 
pleasure  to  get  these  of  the  heartiest  imaginable 
ticket-agent.  He  was  a  colonel  or  at  least  a 
major,  and  he  made  a  polite  feint  of  calling  Basil 


200  Their  Wedding  Journey 

by  some  military  title.  Recommended  the  trip 
they  were  about  to  make  as  the  most  magnifi- 
cent and  beautiful  on  the  whole  continent,  and 
he  commended  them  for  intending  to  make  it. 
He  said  that  was  Mrs.  General  Bowder  of  Phila- 
delphia who  just  went  out  ;  did  they  know  her  ? 
Somehow,  the  titles  affected  Basil  as  of  older 
date  than  the  late  war,  and  as  belonging  to  the 
militia  period  ;  and  he  imagined  for  the  agent 
the  romance  of  a  life  spent  at  a  watering-place, 
in  contact  with  rich  money-spending,  pleasure- 
taking  people,  who  formed  his  whole  jovial  world. 
The  Colonel,  who  included  them  in  this  world, 
and  thereby  brevetted  them  rich  and  fashionable, 
could  not  secure  a  stateroom  for  them  on  the 
boat,  —  a  perfectly  splendid  Lake  steamer,  which 
would  take  them  down  the  rapids  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and  on  to  Montreal  without  change, 
—  but  he  would  give  them  a  letter  to  the  cap- 
tain, who  was  a  very  particular  friend  of  his, 
and  would  be  happy  to  show  them  as  \\\§  friends 
every  attention  ;  and  so  he  wrote  a  note  ascrib- 
ing peculiar  merits  to  Basil,  and  in  spite  of  all 
reason  making  him  feel  for  the  moment  that  he 
was  privileged  by  a  document  which  was  no 
doubt  part  of  every  such  transaction.  He  spoke 
in  a  loud  cheerful  voice  ;  he  laughed  jollily  at  no 
apparent  joke  ;  he  bowed  very  low  and  said, 
"  £<9^-evening  !  "  at  parting,  and  they  went  away 
as  if  he  had  blessed  them. 


Niagara  201 


The  rest  of  the  evening  they  spent  in  wander- 
ing through  the  village,  charmed  with  its  bizarre 
mixture  of  quaintness  and  commonplaceness ; 
in  hanging  about  the  shop-windows  with  their 
monotonous  variety  of  feather  fans,  —  each  with 
a  violently  red  or  yellow  bird  painfully  sacrificed 
in  its  centre,  —  moccasins,  bead-wrought  work- 
bags,  tobacco-pouches,  bows  and  arrows,  and 
whatever  else  the  savage  art  of  the  neighboring 
squaws  can  invent  ;  in  sauntering  through  these 
gay  booths,  pricing  many  things,  and  in  hang- 
ing long  and  undecidedly  over  cases  full  of  feld- 
spar crosses,  quartz  bracelets  and  necklaces, 
and  every  manner  of  vase,  inoperative  pitcher, 
and  other  vessel  that  can  be  fashioned  out  of 
the  geological  formations  at  Niagara,  tormented 
meantime  by  the  heat  of  the  gas-lights  and  the 
persistence  of  the  mosquitoes.  There  were 
very  few  people  besides  themselves  in  the 
shops,  and  Isabel's  purchases  were  not  lavish. 
Her  husband  had  made  up  his  mind  to  get  her 
some  little  keepsake  ;  and  when  he  had  taken 
her  to  the  hotel  he  ran  back  to  one  of  the 
shops,  and  hastily  bought  her  a  feather  fan,  — 
a  magnificent  thing  of  deep  magenta  dye  shad- 
ing into  blue,  with  a  whole  yellow-bird  trans- 
fixed in  the  centre.  When  he  triumphantly 
displayed  it  in  their  room,  "  Who 's  that  for, 
Basil?"  demanded  his  wife;  "the  cook?" 


202  Their  Wedding  Journey 

But  seeing  his  ghastly  look  at  this,  she  fell 
upon  his  neck,  crying,  "  O  you  poor  old  taste- 
less darling  !  You  've  got  it  for  me !  "  and 
seemed  about  to  die  of  laughter. 

"  Did  n't  you  start  and  throw  up  your  hands," 
he  stammered,  "when  you  came  to  that  case  of 
fans?" 

"  Yes, — in  horror!  Did  you  think  I  liked 
the  cruel  things,  with  their  dead  birds  and  their 
hideous  colors  ?  O  Basil,  dearest !  You  are 
incorrigible.  Cant  you  learn  that  magenta  is 
the  vilest  of  all  the  hues  that  the  perverseness 
of  man  has  invented  in  defiance  of  nature  ? 
Now,  my  love,  just  promise  me  orie~  thing,"  she 
said  pathetically.  "  We  're  going  to  do  a  little 
shopping  in  Montreal,  you  know  ;  and  perhaps 
you'll  be  wanting  to  surprise  me  with  some- 
thing there.  Don't  do  it.  Or  if  you  must,  do 
tell  me  all  about  it  beforehand,  and  what  the 
color  of  it 's  to  be ;  and  I  can  say  whether  to 
get  it  or  not,  and  then  there  '11  be  some  taste 
about  it,  and  I  shall  be  truly  surprised  and 
pleased." 

She  turned  to  put  the  fan  into  her  trunk,  and 
he  murmured  something  about  exchanging  it. 
"  No,"  she  said,  "  we  '11  keep  it  as  a  —  a  —  mon- 
ument." And  she  deposed  him,  with  another 
peal  of  laughter,  from  the  proud  height  to 
which  he  had  climbed  in  pity  of  her  nervous 


Buying  the  Little  Keepsake 


Niagara  205 


fears  of  the  day.  So  completely  were  their 
places  changed,  that  he  doubted  if  it  were  not 
he  who  had  made  that  scene  on  the  Third  Sis- 
ter ;  and  when  Isabel  said,  " Oh,  why  wont  men 
use  their  reasoning  faculties  ?  "  he  could  not  for 
himself  have  claimed  any,  and  he  could  not  urge 
the  truth  :  that  he  had  bought  the  fan  more 
for  its  barbaric  brightness  than  for  its  beauty. 
She  would  not  let  him  get  angry,  and  he  could 
say  nothing  against  the  half-ironical  petting  with 
which  she  soothed  his  mortification. 

But  all  troubles  passed  with  the  night,  and 
the  next  morning  they  spent  a  charming  hour 
about  Prospect  Point,  and  in  sauntering  over 
Goat  Island,  somewhat  daintily  tasting  the 
flavors  of  the  place  on  whose  wonders  they  had 
so  hungrily  and  indiscriminately  feasted  at  first. 
They  had  already  the  feeling  of  veteran  visitors, 
and  they  loftily  marveled  at  the  greed  with 
which  newer-comers  plunged  at  the  sensations. 
They  could  not  conceive  why  people  should 
want  to  descend  the  inclined  railway  to  the  foot 
of  the  American  Fall ;  they  smiled  at  the  idea 
of  going  up  Terrapin  Tower ;  they  derided  the 
vulgar  daring  of  those  who  went  out  upon  the 
Three  Weird  Sisters ;  for  some  whom  they  saw 
about  to  go  down  the  Biddle  Stairs  to  the  Cave 
of  the  Winds,  they  had  no  words  to  express 
their  contempt. 


206  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Then  they  made  their  excursion  to  the  Whirl- 
pool, mistakenly  going  down  on  the  American 
side,  for  it  is  much  better  seen  from  the  other, 
though  seen  from  any  point  it  is  the  most 
impressive  feature  of  the  whole  prodigious  spec- 
tacle of  Niagara. 

Here  within  the  compass  of  a  mile,  those 
inland  seas  of  the  North,  Superior,  Huron, 
Michigan,  Erie,  and  the  multitude  of  smaller 
lakes,  all  pour  their  floods,  where  they  swirl  in 
dreadful  vortices,  with  resistless  under-currents 
boiling  beneath  the  surface  of  that  mighty  eddy. 
Abruptly  from  this  scene  of  secret  power,  so 
different  from  the  thunderous  splendors  of  the 
cataract  itself,  rise  lofty  cliffs  on  every  side,  to 
a  height  of  two  hundred  feet,  clothed  from  the 
water's  edge  almost  to  their  crests  with  dark 
cedars.  Noiselessly,  so  far  as  your  senses  per- 
ceive, the  lakes  steal  out  of  the  whirlpool,  then, 
drunk  and  wild,  with  brawling  rapids  roar  away 
to  Ontario  through  the  narrow  channel  of  the 
river.  Awful  as  the  scene  is,  you  stand  so  far 
above  it  that  you  do  not  know  the  half  of  its 
terribleness ;  for  those  waters  that  look  so 
smooth  are  great  ridges  and  rings,  forced,  by 
the  impulse  of  the  currents,  twelve  feet  higher 
in  the  centre  than  at  the  margin.  Nothing  can 
live  there,  and  with  what  is  caught  in  its  hold, 
the  maelstrom  plays  for  days,  and  whirls  and 


Niagara  207 


tosses  round  and  round  in  its  toils,  with  a  sad, 
maniacal  patience.  The  guides  tell  ghastly 
stories,  which  even  their  telling  does  not  wholly 
rob  of  ghastliness,  about  the  bodies  of  drowned 
men  carried  into  the  whirlpool  and  made  to 
enact  upon  its  dizzy  surges  a  travesty  of  life, 
apparently  floating  there  at  their  pleasure, 
diving  and  frolicking  amid  the  waves,  or  fran- 
tically struggling  to  escape  from  the  death  that 
has  long  since  befallen  them. 

On  the  American  side,  not  far  below  the 
railway  suspension  bridge,  is  an  elevator  more 
than  a  hundred  and  eighty  feet  high,  which  is 
meant  to  let  people  down  to  the  shore  below, 
and  to  give  a  view  of  the  rapids  on  their  own 
level.  From  the  cliff  opposite,  it  looks  a  ter- 
ribly frail  structure  of  pine  sticks,  but  is  doubt- 
less stronger  than  it  looks ;  and  at  any  rate,  as 
it  has  never  yet  fallen  to  pieces,  it  may  be 
pronounced  perfectly  safe. 

In  the  waiting-room  at  the  top,  Basil  and 
Isabel  found  Mr.  Richard  and  his  ladies  again, 
who  got  into  the  movable  chamber  with  them, 
and  they  all  silently  descended  together.  It 
was  not  a  time  for  talk  of  any  kind,  either 
when  they  were  slowly  and  not  quite  smoothly 
dropping  through  the  lugubrious  upper  part  of 
the  structure,  where  it  was  darkened  by  a  rough 
weather-boarding,  or  lower  down,  where  the 


208  Their  Wedding  Journey 

unobstructed  light  showed  the  grim  tearful 
face  of  the  cliff,  bedrabbled  with  oozy  springs, 
and  the  audacious  slightness  of  the  elevator. 
An  abiding  distrust  of  the  machinery  overhead 
mingled  in  Isabel's  heart  with  a  doubt  of  the 
value  of  the  scene  below,  and  she  could  not 
look  forward  to  escape  from  her  present  perils 
by  the  conveyance  which  had  brought  her  into 
them  with  any  satisfaction.  She  wanly  smiled, 
and  shrank  closer  to  Basil ;  while  the  other 
matron  made  nothing  of  seizing  her  husband 
violently  by  the  arm  and  imploring  him  to 
stop  it  whenever  they  experienced  a  rougher 
jolt  than  usual. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  cliff  they  were  helped 
out  of  their  prison  by  a  humid  young  English- 
man, with  much  clay  on  him,  whose  face  was 
red  and  bathed  in  perspiration,  for  it  was  very 
hot  down  there  in  his  little  inclosure  of  baking 
pine  boards,  and  it  was  not  much  cooler  out 
on  the  rocks  upon  which  the  party  issued, 
descending  and  descending  by  repeated  and 
desultory  flights  of  steps,  till  at  last  they  stood 
upon  a  huge  fragment  of  stone  right  abreast 
of  the  rapids.  Yet  it  was  a  magnificent  sight, 
and  for  a  moment  none  of  them^  were  sorry  to 
have  come.  The  surges  did  not  look  like  the 
gigantic  ripples  on  a  river's  course  as  they 
were,  but  like  a  procession  of  ocean  billows ; 


Niagara 


209 


they  arose  far  aloft 
in  vast  bulks  of 
clear  green,  and 
broke  heavily  into 
foam  at  the  crest. 
Great  blocks  and 
shapeless  frag- 
ments of  rock 
strewed  the  mar- 
gin of  the  awful 
torrent  ;  gloomy 
walls  of  dark  stone 
rose  naked  from 
these,  bearded  here 
and  there  with 
cedar,  and  every- 
where frowning 
with  shaggy  brows 
of  evergreen.  The 
place  is  inexpres- 
sibly lonely  and 
dreadful,  and  one 
feels  like  an  alien 
presence  there,  or  as  if  he  had  intruded  upon 
some  mood  or  haunt  of  Nature  in  which  she  had 
a  right  to  be  forever  alone.  The  slight,  impu- 
dent structure  of  the  elevator  rises  through  the 
solitude  like  a  thing  that  merits  ruin,  yet  it  is 
better  than  something  more  elaborate,  for  it 


. 


The  Rapids 


210  Their  Wedding  Journey 

looks  temporary,  and  since  there  must  be  an 
elevator,  it  is  well  to  have  it  of  the  most  transi- 
tory aspect.  Some  such  quality  of  rude  imper- 
manence  consoles  you  for  the  presence  of  most 
improvements  by  which  you  enjoy  Niagara;  the 
suspension  bridges  for  their  part  being  saved 
from  offensiveness  by  their  beauty  and  unreality. 

Ascending,  none  of  the  party  spoke  ;  Isabel 
and  the  other  matron  blanched  in  each  other's 
faces ;  their  husbands  maintained  a  stolid  resig- 
nation. When  they  stepped  out  of  their  trap 
into  the  waiting  -  room '  at  the  top,  "What  I 
like  about  these  little  adventures,"  said  Mr. 
Richard  to  Basil,  abruptly,  "  is  getting  safely 
out  of  t*hem.  Good-morning,  sir."  He  bowed 
slightly  to  Isabel,  who  returned  his  politeness, 
and  exchanged  faint  nods,  or  glances,  with  the 
ladies.  They  got  into  their  separate  carriages, 
and  at  that  safe  distance  made  each  other  more 
decided  obeisances. 

"Well,"  observed  Basil,  "I  suppose  we  're 
introduced  now.  We  shall  be  meeting  them 
from  time  to  time  throughout  our  journey. 
You  know  how  the  same  faces  and  the  same 
trunks  used  to  keep  turning  up  in  our  travels 
on  the  other  side.  Once  meet  people  in  trav- 
eling, and  you  can't  get  rid  of  them." 

"Yes,"  said  Isabel,  as  if  continuing  his  train 
of  thought,  "  I  'm  glad  we  're  going  to-day." 


Niagara  2 1 1 


"  O  dearest !  " 

"  Truly.  When  we  first  arrived  I  felt  only 
the  loveliness  of  the  place.  It  seemed  more 
familiar,  too,  then ;  but  ever  since,  it 's  been 
growing  stranger  and  dreadfuller.  Somehow 
it 's  begun  to  pervade  me  and  possess  me  in 
a  very  uncomfortable  way ;  I'm  tossed  upon 
rapids,  and  flung  from  cataract  brinks,  and  diz- 
zied in  whirlpools  ;  I  'm  no  longer  yours,  Basil  ; 
I  'm  most  unhappily  married  to  Niagara.  Fly 
with  me,  save  me  from  my  awful  lord  ! " 

She  lightly  burlesqued  the  woes  of  a  prima 
donna,  with  clasped  hands  and  uplifted  eyes. 

"  That  '11  do  very  well,"  Basil  commented, 
"and  it  implies  a  reality  that  can't  be  quite 
definitely  spoken.  We  come  to  Niagara  in  the 
patronizing  spirit  in  which  we  approach  every- 
thing nowadays,  and  for  a  few  hours  we  have  it 
our  own  way,  and  pay  our  little  tributes  of  ad- 
miration with  as  much  complacency  as  we  feel 
in  acknowledging  the  existence  of  the  Supreme 
Being.  But  after  a  while  we  are  aware  of  some 
potent  influence  undermining  our  self-satisfac- 
tion ;  we  begin  to  conjecture  that  the  great  cata- 
ract does  not  exist  by  virtue  of  our  approval,  and 
to  feel  that  it  will  not  cease  when  we  go  away. 
The  second  day  makes  us  its  abject  slaves,  and 
on  the  third  we  want  to  fly  from  it  in  terror.  I 
believe  some  people  stay  for  weeks,  however, 


2 1 2  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  hordes  of  them  have  written  odes  to  Niag- 
ara." 

"  I  can't  understand  it  at  all,"  said  Isabel. 
"  I  don't  wonder  now  that  the  town  should  be 
so  empty  this  season,  but  that  it  should  ever  be 
full.  I  wish  we  'd  gone  after  our  first  look  at 
the  Falls  from  the  suspension  bridge.  How 
beautiful  that  was  !  I  rejoice  in  everything  that 
I  have  n't  done.  I  'm  so  glad  I  have  n't  been  in 
the  Cave  of  the  Winds  ;  I'm  so  happy  that  Table 
Rock  fell  twenty  years  ago !  Basil,  I  could  n't 
stand  another  rainbow  to-day.  I  'm  sorry  we 
went  out  on  the  Three  Weird  Sisters.  Oh,  I 
shall  dream  about  it  !  and  the  rush,  and  the 
whirl,  and  the  dampness  in  one's  face,  and  the 
everlasting  chir-r-r-r-r  of  everything  !  " 

She  dipped  suddenly  upon  his  shoulder  for  a 
moment's  oblivion,  and  then  rose  radiant  with 
a  question :  "  Why  in  the  world,  if  Niagara  is 
really  what  it  seems  to  us  now,  do  so  many 
bridal  parties  come  here?" 

"  Perhaps  they  're  the  only  people  who  've 
the  strength  to  bear  up  against  it,  and  are  not 
easily  dispersed  and  subjected  by  it." 

"But  we're  dispersed  and  subjected." 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  we  married  a  little  late.  Who 
knows  how  it  would  be  if  you  were  nineteen 
instead  of  twenty-seven,  and  I  twenty-five  and 
not  turned  of  thirty  ? " 


Niagara  213 


"  Basil,  you  're  very  cruel." 

"  No,  no.  But  don't  you  see  how  it  is  ? 
We  've  known  too  much  of  life  to  desire  any 
gloomy  background  for  our  happiness.  We  're 
quite  contented  to  have  things  gay  and  bright 
about  us.  Once  we  could  n't  have  made  the 
circle  dark  enough.  Well,  my  dear,  that 's  the 
effect  of  age.  We're  superannuated." 

"  I  used  to  think  /  was  before  we  were  mar- 
ried," answered  Isabel  simply;  "but  now,"  she 
added  triumphantly,  "  I  'm  rescued  from  all 
that.  I  shall  never  be  old  again,  dearest; 
never,  as  long  as  you —  love  me  !  " 

They  were  about  to  enter  the  village,  and 
he  could  not  make  any  open  acknowledgment 
of  her  tenderness  ;  but  *  £er  silken  mantle  (or 
whatever)  slipped  from  her  shoulder,  and  he 
embracingly  replaced  it,  flattering  himself  that 
he  had  delicately  seized  this  chance  of  an  un- 
avowed  caress  and  not  knowing  (oh,  such  is 
the  blindness  of  our  sex !)  that  the  opportunity 
had  been  yet  more  subtly  afforded  him,  with 
the  art  which  women  never  disuse  in  this 
world,  and  which  I  hope  they  will  not  forget 
in  the  next. 

They  had  an  early  dinner,  and  looked  their 
last  upon  the  nuptial  gayety  of  the  otherwise 
forlorn  hotel.  Three  brides  sat  down  with  them 
in  traveling-dress ;  two  occupied  the  parlor  as 


214  Their  Wedding  Journey 


they  passed  out ;  half  a  dozen  happy  pairs  ar- 
rived (to  the  music  of  the  band)  in  the  omni- 
bus that  was  to  carry  our  friends  back  to  the 
station  ;  they  caught  sight  of  several  about  the 
shop  windows,  as  they  drove  through  the  streets. 
Thus  the  place  perpetually  renews  itself  in  the 
glow  of  love  as  long  as  the  summer  lasts.  The 
moon,  which  is  elsewhere  so  often  of  wormwood, 
or  of  the  ordinary  green  cheese  at  the  best,  is 
of  lucent  honey  there  from  the  first  of  June  to 
the  last  of  October ;  and  this  is  a  great  charm 
in  Niagara.  I  think  with  tenderness  of  all  the 
lives  that  have  opened  so  fairly  there ;  the 
hopes  that  have  reigned  in  the  glad  young 
hearts ;  the  measureless  tide  of  joy  that  ebbs 
and  flows  with  the  arriving  and  departing  trains. 
Elsewhere  there  are  carking  cares  of  business 
and  of  fashion,  there  are  age,  and  sorrow,  and 
heart-break  :  but  here  only  youth,  faith,  rapture. 
I  kiss  my  hand  to  Niagara  for  that  reason,  and 
would  I  were  a  poet  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

Isabel  departed  in  almost  a  forgiving  mood 
towards  the  weak  sisterhood  of  evident  brides, 
and  both  our  friends  felt  a  lurking  fondness  for 
Niagara  at  the  last  moment.  I  do  not  know 
how  much  of  their  content  was  due  to  the  fact 
that  they  had  suffered  no  sort  of  wrong  there 
from  those  who  are  apt  to  prey  upon  travelers. 
In  the  hotel  a  placard  warned  them  to  have 


Niagara  215 


nothing  to  do  with  the  miscreant  hackmen  on 
the  streets,  but  always  to  order  their  carriage  at 
the  office  ;  on  the  street  the  hackmen  whispered 
to  them  not  to  trust  the  exorbitant  drivers  in 
league  with  the  landlords ;  yet  their  actual  ex- 
perience was  great  reasonableness  and  facile 
contentment  with  the  sum  agreed  upon.  This 
may  have  been  because  the  hackmen  so  far 
outnumbered  the  visitors  that  the  latter  could 
dictate  terms ;  but  they  chose  to  believe  it 
a  triumph  of  civilization ;  and  I  will  never  be 
the  cynic  to  sneer  at  their  faith.  Only  at  the 
station  was  the  virtue  of  the  Niagarans  put  in 
doubt,  by  the  hotel  porter  who  professed  to 
find  Basil's  trunk  enfeebled  by  travel,  and  ad- 
vised a  strap  for  it,  which  a  friend  of  his  would 
sell  for  a  dollar  and  a  half.  Yet  even  he  may 
have  been  a  benevolent  nature  unjustly  sus- 
pected. 


VII 


DOWN    THE    ST.    LAWRENCE 

THEY  were  to  take 
the  Canadian  steamer 
at  Charlotte,  the  port 
of  Rochester,  and  they 
rattled  uneventfully 
down  from  Niagara  by 
rail.  At  the  broad,  low- 
banked  river  -  mouth 
the  steamer  lay  beside 
the  railroad  station ; 
and  while  Isabel  dis- 
posed of  herself  on 
board,  Basil  looked  to 
the  transfer  of  the 
baggage,  novelly  com- 
forted in  the  business 
by  the  respectfulness 
of  the  young  Canadian 
who  took  charge  of  the 
trunks  for  the  boat.  He  was  slow,  and  his 
system  was  not  good,  —  he  did  not  give  checks 
for  the  pieces,  but  marked  them  with  the  name 


The  Pilot 


Doivn  the  St.  Lawrence 


217 


of  their  destination ;  and  there  was  that  indefin- 
able something  in  his  manner  which  hinted  his 
hope  that  you  would  remember  the  porter ;  but 
he  was  so  civil  that  he  did  not  snub  the  meekest 
and  most  vexatious  of  the  passengers,  and  Basil 


Securing  their  Stateroom  Keys 

mutely  blessed  his  servile  soul.  Few  white 
Americans,  he  said  to  himself,  would  behave  so 
decently  in  his  place  ;  and  he  could  not  conceive 
of  the  American  steamboat  clerk  who  would  use 
the  politeness  towards  a  waiting  crowd  that  the 
Canadian  purser  showed  when  they  all  wedged 


2i8  Their  Wedding  Journey 

themselves  in  about  his  window  to  receive  their 
stateroom  keys.  He  was  somewhat  awkward, 
like  the  porter,  but  he  was  patient,  and  he  did 
not  lose  his  temper  even  when  some  of  the 
crowd,  finding  he  would  not  bully  them,  made 
bold  to  bully  him.  He  was  three  times  as  long 
in  serving  them  as  an  American  would  have 
been,  but  their  time  was  of  no  value  there,  and 
he  served  them  well.  Basil  made  a  point  of 
speaking  him  fair,  when  his  turn  came,  and  the 
purser  did  not  trample  on  him  for  a  base  truck- 
ler, as  an  American  jack-in-office  would  have 
done. 

Our  tourists  felt  at  home  directly  on  this 
steamer,  which  was  very  comfortable,  and  in 
every  way  sufficient  for  its  purpose,  with  a  vis- 
ible captain,  who  answered  two  or  three  ques- 
tions very  pleasantly,  and  bore  himself  towards 
his  passengers  in  some  sort  like  a  host. 

In  the  saloon  Isabel  had  found  among  the 
passengers  her  semi-acquaintances  of  the  hotel 
parlor  and  the  Rapids  elevator,  and  had  glanced 
tentatively  towards  them.  Whereupon  the 
matron  of  the  party  had  made  advances  that 
ended  in  their  all  sitting  down  together  and 
wondering  when  the  boat  would  start,  and  what 
time  they  would  get  to  Montreal  next  evening, 
with  other  matters  that  strangers  going  upon 
the  same  journey  may  properly  marvel  over  in 


Do^vn  the  St.  Lawrence 


219 


company.  The  in- 
troduction having 
thus  accomplished 
itself,  they  ex- 
changed address- 
es, and  it  appeared 
that  Richard  was 
Colonel  Ellison,  of 
Milwaukee,  and 
that  Fanny  was 
his  wife.  Miss 
Kitty  Ellison  was 
of  Western  New 
York,  not  far  from 
Erie.  There  was 
a  diversion  pres- 
ently towards  the 
different  state- 
rooms ;  but  the 
new  acquaintances  sat  vis-a-vis  at  the  table, 
and  after  supper  the  ladies  drew  their  chairs 
together  on  the  promenade  deck  and  enjoyed 
the  fresh  evening  breeze.  The  sun  set  magnifi- 
cent upon  the  low  western  shore  which  they  had 
now  left  an  hour  away,  and  a  broad  stripe  of 
color  stretched  behind  the  steamer.  A  few  thin, 
luminous  clouds  darkened  momently  along  the 
horizon,  and  then  mixed  with  the  land.  The 
stars  came  out  in  a  clear  sky,  and  a  light  wind 


A  Cosy  Corner 


220  Their  Wedding  Journey 


softly  buffeted  the  cheeks,  and  breathed  life 
into  nerves  that  the  day's  heat  had  wasted.  It 
scarcely  wrinkled  the  tranquil  expanse  of  the 
lake,  on  which  loomed,  far  or  near,  a  full-sailed 
schooner,  and  presently  melted  into  the  twi- 
light, and  left  the  steamer  solitary  upon  the 
waters.  The  company  was  small,  and  not  re- 
markable enough  in  anyway  to  take  the  thoughts 
of  any  one  off  his  own  comfort.  A  deep  sense 
of  the  cosiness  of  the  situation  possessed 
them  all,  which  was  if  possible  intensified  by 
the  spectacle  of  the  captain  seated  on  the  up- 
per deck  and  smoking  a  cigar  that  flashed  and 
fainted  like  a  stationary  firefly  in  the  gathering 
dusk.  How  very  distant,  in  this  mood,  were  the 
most  recent  events  !  Niagara  seemed  a  fable 
of  antiquity ;  the  ride  from  Rochester  a  myth 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  In  this  cool,  happy  world 
of  quiet  lake,  of  starry  skies,  of  air  that  the 
soul  itself  seemed  to  breathe,  there  was  such 
consciousness  of  repose  as  if  one  were  steeped 
in  rest  and  soaked  through  and  through  with 
calm. 

The  points  of  likeness  between  Isabel  and 
Mrs.  Ellison  shortly  made  them  mutually  unin- 
teresting, and,  leaving  her  husband  to  the 
others,  Isabel  frankly  sought  the  companionship 
of  Miss  Kitty,  in  whom  she  found  a  charm  of 
manner  which  puzzled  at  first,  but  which  she 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  221 

presently  fancied  must  be  perfect  trust  of  others 
mingling  with  a  peculiar  self-reliance. 

"  Can't  you  see,  Basil,  what  a  very  flattering 
way  it  is  ? "  she  asked  of  her  husband,  when, 
after  parting  with  their  friends  for  the  night, 
she  tried  to  explain  the  character  to  him.  "  Of 
course  no  art  could  equal  such  a  natural  gift ; 
for  that  kind  of  belief  in  your  good-nature  and 
sympathy  makes  you  feel  worthy  of  it,  don't 
you  know ;  and  so  you  can't  help  being  good-na- 
tured and  sympathetic.  This  Miss  Ellison,  why, 
I  can  tell  you,  I  should  n't  be  ashamed  of  her 
anywhere."  By  anywhere  Isabel  meant  Bos- 
ton, and  she  went  on  to  praise  the  young  lady's 
intelligence  and  refinement,  with  those  expres- 
sions of  surprise  at  the  existence  of  civilization 
in  a  Westerner  which  Westerners  find  it  so  hard 
to  receive  graciously.  Happily,  Miss  Ellison 
had  not  to  hear  them.  "The  reason  she  hap- 
pened to  come  with  only  two  dresses  is,  she 
lives  so  near  Niagara  that  she  could  come  for 
one  day,  and  go  back  the  next.  The  colonel 's 
her  cousin,  and  he  and  his  wife  go  East  every 
year,  and  they  asked  her  this  time  to  see  Ni- 
agara with  them.  She  told  me  all  over  again 
what  we  eavesdropped  so  shamefully  in  the 
hotel  parlor ;  and  I  don't  know  whether  she 
was  better  pleased  with  the  prospect  of  what 's 
before  her,  or  with  the  notion  of  making  the 


222  Their  Wedding  Journey 

journey  in  this  original  way.  She  did  n't  force 
her  confidence  upon  me,  any  more  than  she  tried 
to  withhold  it.  We  got  to  talking  in  the  most 
natural  manner ;  and  she  seemed  to  tell  these 
things  about  herself  because  they  amused  her 
and  she  liked  me.  I  had  been  saying  how  my 
trunk  got  left  behind  once  on  the  French  side 
of  Mont  Cenis,  and  I  had  to  wear  aunt's  things 
at  Turin  till  it  could  be  sent  for." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  but  Miss  Ellison  could  de- 
scribe you  to  her  friends  very  much  as  you  've 
described  her  to  me,"  said  Basil.  "  How  did 
these  mutual  confidences  begin  ?  Whose  trust- 
fulness first  flattered  the  other's  ?  What  else 
did  you  tell  about  yourself  ? " 

"  I  said  we  were  on  our  wedding  journey," 
guiltily  admitted  Isabel. 

"  Oh,  you  did  !  " 

"  Why,  dearest !  I  wanted  to  know,  for  once, 
you  see,  whether  we  seemed  honeymoon-struck," 

"  And  do  we  ?  " 

"  No,"  came  the  answer,  somewhat  ruefully. 
"  Perhaps,  Basil,"  she  added,  "  we  've  been  a 
little  too  successful  in  disguising  our  bridal 
character.  Do  you  know,"  she  continued,  look- 
ing him  anxiously  in  the  face,  "  this  Miss  Elli- 
son took  me  at  first  for  — your  sister  !  " 

Basil  broke  forth  in  outrageous  laughter. 
"One  more  such  victory,"  he  said,  "and  we  are 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  223 

undone  ; "  and  he  laughed  again  immoderately. 
"  How  sad  is  the  fruition  of  human  wishes  ! 
There  's  nothing,  after  all,  like  a  good  thorough 
failure  for  making  people  happy." 

Isabel  did  not  listen  to  him.  Safe  in  a  dim 
corner  of  the  deserted  saloon,  she  seized  him 
in  a  vindictive  embrace ;  then,  as  if  it  had  been 
he  who  suggested  the  idea  of  such  a  loathsome 
relation,  hissed  out  the  hated  words,  "  Your 
sister!"  and  released  him  with  a  disdainful 
repulse. 

A  little  after  daybreak  the  steamer  stopped 
at  the  Canadian  city  of  Kingston,  a  handsome 
place,  substantial  to  the  water's  edge,  and  giv- 
ing a  sense  of  English  solidity  by  the  stone  of 
which  it  is  largely  built.  There  was  an  acces- 
sion of  many  passengers  here,  and  they  and  the 
people  on  the  wharf  were  as  little  like  Ameri- 
cans as  possible.  They  were  English  or  Irish 
or  Scotch,  with  the  healthful  bloom  of  the  Old 
World  still  upon  their  faces,  or  if  Canadians 
they  looked  not  less  hearty;  so  that  one  must 
wonder  if  the  line  between  the  Dominion  and 
the  United  States  did  not  also  sharply  separate 
good  digestion  and  dyspepsia.  These  provin- 
cials had  not  our  regularity  of  features,  nor  the 
best  of  them  our  careworn  sensibility  of  expres- 
sion ;  but  neither  had  -they  our  complexions  of 
adobe ;  and  even  Isabel  was  forced  to  allow  that 


224  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  men  were,  on  the  whole,  better  dressed  than 
the  same  number  of  average  Americans  would 
have  been  in  a  city  of  that  size  and  remoteness. 
The  stevedores  who  were  putting  the  freight 
aboard  were  men  of  leisure  ;  they  joked  in  a 
kindly  way  with  the  orange-women  and  the  old 
women  picking  up  chips  on  the  pier ;  and  our 
land  of  hurry  seemed  beyond  the  ocean  rather 
than  beyond  the  lake. 

Kingston  has  romantic  memories  of  being 
Fort  Frontenac  two  hundred  years  ago  ;  of 
Count  Frontenac's  splendid  advent  among  the 
Indians  ;  of  the  brave  La  Salle,  who  turned  its 
wooden  walls  to  stone  ;  of  wars  with  the  savages 
and  then  with  the  New  York  colonists,  whom 
the  French  and  their  allies  harried  from  this 
point ;  of  the  destruction  of  La  Salle's  fort  in 
the  Old  French  War ;  and  of  final  surrender  a 
few  years  later  to  the  English.  It  is  as  pic- 
turesque as  it  is  historical.  All  about  the  city 
the  shores  are  beautifully  wooded,  and  there  are 
many  lovely  islands, — the  first  indeed  of  those 
Thousand  Islands  with  which  the  head  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  is  filled,  and  among  which  the 
steamer  was  presently  threading  her  way.  They 
are  still  as  charming  and  still  almost  as  wild  as 
when,  in  1673,  Frontenac's  flotilla  of  canoes 
passed  through  their  labyrinth  and  issued  upon 
the  lake,  Save  for  a  lighthouse  upon  one  of 


Down  tJie  St.  Lawrence  225 

them,  there  is  almost  nothing  to  show  that  the 
foot  of  man  has  ever  pressed  the  thin  grass 
clinging  to  their  rocky  surfaces,  and  keeping 
its  green  in  the  eternal  shadow  of  their  pines 
and  cedars.  In  the  warm  morning  light  they 
gathered  or  dispersed  before  the  advancing  ves- 
sel, which  some  of  them  almost  touched  with 


A  mong  tJie  Thousand  Islands 

the  plumage  of  their  evergreens  ;  and  where 
none  of  them  were  large,  some  were  so  small 
that  it  would  not  have  been  too  bold  to  figure 
them  as  a  vaster  race  of  water-birds  assembling 
and  separating  in  her  course.  It  is  curiously 
affecting  to  find  them  so  unclaimed  yet  from  the 
solitude  of  the  vanished  wilderness,  and  scarcely 
touched  even  by  tradition.  But  for  the  interest 
left  them  by  the  French,  these  tiny  islands  have 
scarcely  any  associations,  and  must  be  enjoyed 


226  Their  Wedding  Journey 

for  their  beauty  alone.  There  is  indeed  about 
them  a  faint  light  of  legend  concerning  the 
Canadian  rebellion  of  1837,  f°r  several  patriots 
are  said  to  have  taken  refuge  amidst  their  lovely 
multitude ;  but  this  episode  of  modern  history 
is  difficult  for  the  imagination  to  manage,  and 
somehow  one  does  not  take  sentimentally  even 
to  that  daughter  of  a  lurking  patriot  who  long 
baffled  her  father's  pursuers  by  rowing  him  from 
one  island  to  another,  and  supplying  him  with 
food  by  night. 

Either  the  reluctance  is  from  the  natural  de- 
sire that  so  recent  a  heroine  should  be  founded 
on  fact,  or  it  is  mere  perverseness.  Perhaps  I 
ought  to  say,  in  justice  to  her,  that  it  was  one 
of  her  own  sex  who  refused  to  be  interested  in 
her,  and  forbade  Basil  to  care  for  her.  When 
he  had  read  of  her  exploit  from  the  guide-book, 
Isabel  asked  him  if  he  had  noticed  that  hand- 
some girl  in  the  blue  and  white  striped  Gari- 
baldi and  Swiss  hat,  who  had  come  aboard  at 
Kingston.  She  pointed  her  out,  and  coura- 
geously made  him  admire  her  beauty,  which 
was  of  the  most  bewitching  Canadian  type.  The 
young  girl  was  redeemed  by  her  New  World 
birth  from  the  English  heaviness  ;  a  more  deli- 
cate bloom  lighted  her  cheeks  ;  a  softer  grace 
dwelt  in  her  movement  ;  yet  she  was  round  and 
full,  and  she  was  in  the  perfect  flower  of  youth. 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  227 

She  was  not  so  ethereal  in  her  loveliness  as  an 
American  girl,  but  she  was  not  so  nervous  and 
had  none  of  the  painful  fragility  of  the  latter. 
Her  expression  was  just  a  little  vacant,  it  must 
be  owned ;  but  so  far  as  she  went  she  was 
faultless.  She  looked  like  the  most  tractable 
of  daughters,  and  as  if  she  would  be  the  most 
obedient  of  wives.  She  had  a  blameless  taste 
in  dress,  Isabel  declared ;  her  costume  of  blue 
and  white  striped  Garibaldi  and  Swiss  hat  (set 
upon  heavy  masses  of  dark  brown  hair)  being 
completed  by  a  black  silk  skirt.  "  And  you  can 
see,"  she  added,  "  that  it 's  an  old  skirt  made 
over,  and  that  she  's  dressed  as  cheaply  as  she 
is  prettily."  This  surprised  Basil,  who  had  im- 
puted the  young  lady's  personal  sumptuousness 
to  her  dress,  and  had  thought  it  enormously 
rich.  When  she  got  off  with  her  cliaperone  at 
one  of  the  poorest  -  looking  country  landings, 
she  left  them  in  hopeless  conjecture  about  her. 
Was  she  visiting  there,  or  was  the  interior  of 
Canada  full  of  such  stylish  and  exquisite  crea- 
tures ?  Where  did  she  get  her  taste,  her  fash- 
ions, her  manners  ?  As  she  passed  from  sight 
towards  the  shadow  of  the  woods,  they  felt  the 
poorer  for  her  going  ;  yet  they  were  glad  to 
have  seen  her,  and  on  second  thoughts  they  felt 
that  they  could  not  justly  ask  more  of  her  than 
to  have  merely  existed  for  a  few  hours  in  their 


228  Their  Wedding  Journey 

presence.  They  perceived  that  beauty  was  not 
only  its  own  excuse  for  being,  but  that  it  flat- 
tered and  favored  and  profited  the  world  by  con- 
senting to  be. 

At  Prescott,  the  boat  on  which  they  had 
come  from  Charlotte,  and  on  which  they  had 
been  promised  a  passage  without  change  to 
Montreal,  stopped,  and  they  were  transferred  to 
a  smaller  steamer  with  the  uncomfortable  name 
of  Banshee.  She  was  very  old,  and  very  infirm 
and  dirty,  and  in  every  way  bore  out  the 
character  of  a  squalid  Irish  goblin.  Besides, 
she  was  already  heavily  laden  with  passengers, 
and,  with  the  addition  of  the  other  steamer's 
people,  had  now  doubled  her  complement ;  and 
our  friends  doubted  if  they  were  not  to  pass 
the  Rapids  in  as  much  danger  as  discomfort. 
Their  fellow-passengers  were  in  great  variety, 
however,  and  thus  partly  atoned  for  their  num- 
bers. Among  them  -of  course  there  was  a  full 
force  of  brides  from  Niagara  and  elsewhere,  and 
some  curious  forms  of  the  prevailing  infatuation 
appeared.  It  is  well  enough,  if  she  likes,  and  it 
may  even  be  very  noble  for  a  passably  good- 
looking  young  lady  to  marry  a  gentleman  of 
venerable  age  ;  but  to  intensify  the  idea  of  self- 
devotion  by  furtively  caressing  his  wrinkled 
front  seems  too  reproachful  of  the  general 
public  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  bride  is 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  229 

very  young  and  pretty,  it  enlists  in  behalf  of 
the  white-haired  husband  the  unwilling  sympa- 
thies of  the  spectator  to  see  her  the  centre  of 
a  group  of  young  people,  and  him  only  acknow- 
ledged from  time  to  time  by  a  Parthian  snub. 
Nothing,  however,  could  have  been  more  satis- 
factory than  the  sisterly  surrounding  of  this 
latter  bride.  They  were  of  a  better  class  of 
Irish  people ;  and  if  it  had  been  any  sacrifice 
for  her  to  marry  so  old  a  man,  they  were  doing 
their  best  to  give  the  affair  at  least  the  liveli- 
ness of  a  wake.  There  were  five  or  six  of  those 
great  handsome  girls,  with  their  generous  curves 
and  wholesome  colors,  and  they  were  every  one 
attended  by  a  good-looking  colonial  lover,  with 
whom  they  joked  in  slightly  brogued  voices, 
and  laughed  with  careless  Celtic  laughter. 
One  of  the  young  fellows  presently  lost  his  hat 
overboard,  and  had  to  wear  the  handkerchief  of 
his  lady  about  his  head  ;  and  this  appeared  to 
be  really  one  of  the  best  things  in  the  world, 
and  led  to  endless  banter.  They  were  well 
dressed,  and  it  could  be  imagined  that  the  an- 
cient bridegroom  had  come  in  for  the  support 
of  the  whole  good-looking,  healthy,  light-hearted 
family.  In  some  degree  he  looked  it,  and  wore 
but  a  rueful  countenance  for  a  bridegroom  ;  so 
that  a  very  young  newly  married  couple,  who 
sat  next  the  jolly  sister-and-loverhood,  could  not 


230  Their  Wedding  Journey 


keep  their  pitying  eyes  off  his  downcast  face. 
"  What  if  he,  too,  were  young  at  heart ! "  the 
kind  little  wife's  regard  seemed  to  say. 

For  the  sake  of  the  slight  air  that  was  stir- 
ring, and  to  have  the  best  view  of  the  Rapids, 
the  Banshee's  whole  company  was  gathered 
upon  the  forward  promenade,  and  the  throng 
was  almost  as  dense  as  in  a  six-o'clock  horse- 
car  out  from  Boston.  The  standing  and  sit- 
ting groups  were  closely  packed  together,  and 
the  expanded  parasols  and  umbrellas  formed 
a  nearly  unbroken  roof.  Under  this  Isabel 
chatted  at  intervals  with  the  Ellisons,  who  sat 
near ;  but  it  was  not  an  atmosphere  that  pro- 
voked social  feeling,  and  she  was  secretly  glad 
when  after  a  while  they  shifted  their  position. 

It  was  deadly  hot,  and  most  of  the  people 
saddened  and  silenced  in  the  heat.  From  time 
to  time  the  clouds  idling  about  overhead  met 
and  sprinkled  down  a  cruel  little  shower  of  rain 
that  seemed  to  make  the  air  less  breatheable 
than  before.  The  lonely  shores  were  yellow 
with  drought  ;  the  islands  grew  wilder  and 
barrener ;  the  course  of  the  river  was  for  miles 
at  a  stretch  through  country  which  gave  no 
signs  of  human  life.  The  St.  Lawrence  has 
none  of  the  bold  picturesqueness  of  the  Hud- 
son, and  is  far  more  like  its  far-off  cousin  the 
Mississippi.  Its  banks  are  low  like  the  Missis- 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  231 


sippi's,  its  current  swift,  its  way  through  soli- 
tary lands.  The  same  sentiment  of  early  ad- 
venture hangs  about  each  :  both  are  haunted  by 
visions  of  the  Jesuit  in  his  priestly  robe,  and 
the  soldier  in  his  mediaeval  steel ;  the  same  gay, 
devout,  and  dauntless  race  has  touched  them 
both  with  immortal  romance.  If  .the  water  were 
of  a  dusky  golden  color,  instead  of  translucent 
green,  and  the  shores  and  islands  were  covered 
with  cottonwoods  and  willows  instead  of  dark 
cedars,  one  could  with  no  great  effort  believe 
one's  self  on  the  Mississippi  between  Cairo  and 
St.  Louis,  so  much  do  the  great  rivers  strike 
one  as  kindred  in  the  chief  features  of  their 
landscape.  Only,  in  tracing  this  resemblance 
you  do  not  know  just  what  to  do  with  the 
purple  mountains  of  Vermont,  seen  vague 
against  the  horizon  from  the  St.  Lawrence,  or 
with  the  quaint  little  French  villages  that  begin 
to  show  themselves  as  you  penetrate  farther 
down  into  Lower  Canada.  These  look  so  peace- 
ful, with  their  dormer-windowed  cottages  cluster- 
ing about  their  church-spires,  that  it  seems  im- 
possible they  could  once  have  been  the  homes  of 
the  savages  and  the  cruel  peasants  who,  with 
fire-brand  and  scalping -knife  and  tomahawk, 
harassed  the  borders  of  New  England  for  a 
hundred  years.  But  just  after  you  descend  the 
Long  Sault  you  pass  the  hamlet  of  St.  Regis, 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


in  which  was  kindled  the  torch  that  wrapt  Deer- 
field  in  flames,  waking  her  people  from  their 
sleep  to  meet  instant  death  or  taste  the  bitter- 
ness of  a  captivity.  The  bell  which  was  sent 
out  from  France  for  the  Indian  converts  of 
the  Jesuits,  and  was  captured  by  an  English 
ship  and  carried  into  Salem,  and  thence  sold 
to  Deerfield,  where  it  called  the  Puritans  to 
prayer,  till  at  last  it  also  summoned  the  priest- 
led  Indians  and  habitans  across  hundreds  of 
miles  of  winter  and  of  wilderness  to  reclaim  it 
from  that  desecration,  —  this  fateful  bell  still 
hangs  in  the  church-tower  of  St.  Regis,  and  has 
invited  to  matins  and  vespers  for  nearly  two 
centuries  the  children  of  those  who  fought  so 
pitilessly  and  dared  and  endured  so  much  for 
it.  Our  friends  would  fain  have  heard  it  as 
they  passed,  hoping  for  some  mournful  note  of 
history  in  its  sound  ;  but  it  hung  silent  over 
the  silent  hamlet,  which,  as  it  lay  in  the  hot 
afternoon  sun  by  the  river's  side,  seemed  as 
lifeless  as  the  Deerfield  burnt  long  ago. 

They  turned  from  it  to  look  at  a  gentleman 
who  had  just  appeared  in  a  mustard-colored 
linen  duster,  and  Basil  asked,  "  Should  n't  you 
like  to  know  the  origin,  personal  history,  and 
secret  feelings  of  a  gentleman  who  goes  about 
in  a  duster  of  that  particular  tint  ?  Or,  that 
gentleman  yonder  with  his  eye  tied  up  in  a  wet 


Doivn  the  St.  Lawrence  233 

handkerchief,  do  you  suppose  he 's  traveling 
for  pleasure  ?  Look  at  those  young  people  from 
Omaha :  they  have  n't  ceased  flirting  or  cack- 
ling since  we  left  Kingston.  Do  you  think 
everybody  has  such  spirits  out  at  Omaha  ?  But 
behold  a  yet  more  surprising  figure  than  any 
we  have  yet  seen  among  this  boat-load  of  non- 
descripts !  " 

This  was  a  tall,  handsome  young  man,  with  a 
face  of  somewhat  foreign  cast,  and  well  dressed, 
with  a  certain  impressive  difference 
from  the  rest  in  the  cut  of  his  clothes. 
But  what  most  drew  the  eye  to  him 
was  a  large  cross,  set  with  brilliants, 
and  surmounted  by  a  heavy  double- 
headed  eagle  in  gold.  This  orna- 
ment dazzled  from  a  conspicuous 
place  on  the  left  lappel  of  his  coat ; 
on  his  hand  shone  a  magnificent  dia- 
mond ring,  and  he  bore  a  stately 
opera-glass,  with  which,  from  time 
to  time,  he  imperiously,  as  one  may 
say,  surveyed  the  landscape.  As 
the  imposing  apparition  grew  upon 
Isabel,  "Oh,  here,"  she  thought, 
"  is  something  truly  distinguished. 
Of  course,  dear,"  she  added  aloud  to 
Basil,  "  he  's  some  foreign  nobleman  ^ 
traveling  here  ;"  and  she  ran  over  The  Nobleman 


234  Their  Wedding  Journey 

in  her  mind  the  newspaper  announcements  of 
patrician  visitors  from  abroad  and  tried  to  iden- 
tify him  with  some  one  of  them.  The  cross 
must  be  the  decoration  of  a  foreign  order,  and 
Basil  suggested  that  he  was  perhaps  a  member 
of  some  legation  at  Washington,  who  had  run 
up  there  for  his  summer  vacation.  The  cross 
puzzled  him,  but  the  double-headed  eagle,  he 
said,  meant  either  Austria  or  Russia  ;  probably 
Austria,  for  the  wearer  looked  a  trifle  too  civil- 
ized for  a  Russian. 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  What  an  air  he  has.  Never 
tell  me,  Basil,  that  there's  nothing  in  blood f" 
cried  Isabel,  who  was  a  bitter  aristocrat  at  heart, 
like  all  her  sex,  though  in  principle  she  was  dem- 
ocratic enough.  As  she  spoke,  the  object  of  her 
regard  looked  about  him  on  the  different  groups, 
not  with  pride,  not  with  hauteur,  but  with  a 
glance  of  unconscious,  unmistakable  superiority. 
"  Oh,  that  stare  !  "  she  added  ;  "  nothing  but 
high  birth  and  long  descent  can  give  it  !  Dear- 
est, he  's  becoming  a  great  affliction  to  me.  I 
want  to  know  who  he  is.  Could  n't  you  invent 
some  pretext  for  speaking  to  him  ?" 

"  No,  I  could  n't  do  it  decently  ;  and  no  doubt 
he  'd  snub  me  as  I  deserved  if  I  intruded  upon 
him.  Let 's  wait  for  fortune  to  reveal  him." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  must,  but  it 's  dreadful  ; 
it 's  really  dreadful.  You  can  easily  see  that 's 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  235 

distinction,"  she  continued,  as  her  hero  moved 
about  the  promenade  and  gently  but  loftily 
made  a  way  for  himself  among  the  other  passen- 
gers and  favored  the  scenery  through  his  opera- 
glass  from  one  point  and  another.  He  spoke 
to  no  one,  and  she  reasonably  supposed  that  he 
did  not  know  English. 

In  the  mean  time  it  was  drawing  near  the  hour 
of  dinner,  but  no  dinner  appeared.  Twelve,  one, 
two  came  and  went,  and  then  at  last  came  the 
dinner,  which  had  been  delayed,  it  seemed,  till 
the  cook  could  recruit  his  energies  sufficiently 
to  meet  the  wants  of  double  the  number  he  had 
expected  to  provide  for.  It  was  observable  of 
the  officers  and  crew  of  the  Banshee,  that  while 
they  did  not  hold  themselves  aloof  from  the 
passengers  in  the  disdainful  American  manner, 
they  were  of  feeble  mind,  and  not  only  did 
everything  very  slowly  (in  the  usual  Canadian 
fashion),  but  with  an  inefficiency  that  among  us 
would  have  justified  them  in  being  insolent. 
The  people  sat  down  at  several  successive  tables 
to  the  worst  dinner  that  ever  was  cooked ;  the 
ladies  first,  and  the  gentlemen  afterwards,  as 
they  made  conquest  of  places.  At  the  second 
table,  to  Basil's  great  satisfaction,  he  found  a 
seat,  and  on  his  right  hand  the  distinguished 
foreigner. 

"Naturally,    I    was   somewhat    abashed,"   he 


236  Their  Wedding  Journey 

said  in  the  account  he  was  presently  called  to 
give  Isabel  of  the  interview,  "  but  I  remembered 
that  I  was  an  American  citizen,  and  tried  to 
maintain  a  decent  composure.  For  several  min- 
utes we  sat  silent  behind  a  dish  of  flabby  cucum- 
bers, expecting  the  dinner,  and  I  was  wondering 
whether  I  should  address  him  in  French  or  Ger- 
man, —  for  I  knew  you  'd  never  forgive  me  if 
I  let  slip  such  a  chance,  —  when  he  turned  and 
spoke  himself." 

"  Oh  what  did  he  say,  dearest  ? " 

"  He  said,  '  Pretty  tejious  waitin',  ain't  it  ? '  in 
the  best  New  York  State  accent." 

"•  You  don't  mean  it !  "  gasped  Isabel. 

"  But  I  do.  After  that  I  took  courage  to  ask 
what  his  cross  and  double-headed  eagle  meant. 
He  showed  the  condescension  of  a  true  noble- 
man. '  Oh,'  says  he,  '  I  'm  glad  you  like  it,  and 
it 's  not  the  least  offense  to  ask,'  and  he  told  me. 
Can  you  imagine  what  it  is  ?  It 's  the  emblem 
of  the  fifty-fourth  degree  in  the  secret  society 
he  belongs  to  !  " 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  " 

"  Well,  ask  him  yourself,  then,"  returned 
Basil ;  "  he  's  a  very  good  fellow.  *  Oh,  that 
stare !  nothing  but  high  birth  and  long  descent 
could  give  it ! '  "  he  repeated,  abominably  imply- 
ing that  he  had  himself  had  no  share  in  their 
common  error. 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence 


237 


What  retort  Isabel  might  have  made  cannot 
now  be  known,  for  she  was  arrested  at  this  mo- 
ment by  a  rumor  amongst  the  passengers  that 
they  were  coming  to  the  Long  Sault  Rapids. 

Looking  forward  she 
saw  the  tossing  and 
flashing  of  surges  that, 
to  the  eye,  are  certain- 
ly as  threatening  as 
the  rapids  above  Niag- 
ara. The  steamer  had 
already  passed  the  De- 
plau  and  the  Galopes,  ,JI 
and  they  had  thus  had 
a  foretaste  of  whatever  pleasure 
or  terror  there  is  in  the  descent 
of  these  nine  miles  of  stormy  sea. 
It  is  purely  a  matter  of  taste,  about 
shooting  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Law-  in  the  Pilot  House 
rence.  The  passengers  like  it  better  than  the 
captain  and  the  pilot,  to  guess  by  their  looks, 
and  the  women  and  children  like  it  better  than 
the  men.  It  is  no  doubt  very  thrilling  and  pic- 
turesque and  wildly  beautiful :  the  children  crow 
and  laugh,  the  women  shout  forth  their  delight, 
as  the  boat  enters  the  seething  current  ;  great 
foaming  waves  strike  her  bows,  and  brawl  away 
to  the  stern,  while  she  dips,  and  rolls,  and  shoots 
onward,  light  as  a  bird  blown  by  the  wind ; 


238  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  wild  shores  and  islands  whirl  out  of  sight ; 
you  feel  in  every  fibre  the  career  of  the  vessel. 
But  the  captain  sits  in  front  of  the  pilot-house 
smoking  with  a  grave  face,  the  pilots  tug  hard 
at  the  wheel ;  the  hoarse  roar  of  the  waters 
fills  the  air ;  beneath  the  smoother  sweeps  of 
the  current  you  can  see  the  brown  rocks  ;  as 
you  sink  from  ledge  to  ledge  in  the  writhing 
and  twisting  steamer,  you  have  a  vague  sense 
that  all  this  is  perhaps  an  achievement  rather 
than  an  enjoyment.  When,  descending  the 
Long  Sault,  you  look  back  up  hill,  and  behold 
those  billows  leaping  down  the  steep  slope  after 
you,  "No  doubt,"  you  confide  to  your  soul,  "it 
is  magnificent ;  but  it  is  not  pleasure."  You 
greet  with  silent  satisfaction  the  level  river, 
stretching  between  the  Long  Sault  and  the  Co- 
teau,  and  you  admire  the  delightful  tranquillity 
of  that  beautiful  Lake  St.  Francis  into  which 
it  expands.  Then  the  boat  shudders  into  the 
Coteau  Rapids,  and  down  through  the  Cedars 
and  Cascades.  On  the  rocks  of  the  last  lies 
the  skeleton  of  a  steamer  wrecked  upon  them, 
and  gnawed  at  still  by  the  white-tusked  wolfish 
rapids.  No  one,  they  say,  was  lost  from  her. 
"But  how,"  Basil  thought,  "would  it  fare  with 
all  these  people  packed  here  upon  her  bow,  if 
the  Banshee  should  swing  round  upon  a  ledge  ?  " 
As  to  Isabel,  she  looked  upon  the  wrecked 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence 


239 


The  Long  Sault  Rapids 

steamer  with  indifference,  as  did  all  the  women  ; 
but  then  they  could  not  swim,  and  would  not 
have  to  save  themselves.  "  The  La  Chine  's  to 
come  yet,"  they  exulted,  "and  that 's  the  awful- 
lest  of  all !  " 

They   passed   the   Lake   St.    Louis ;   the    La 
Chine  Rapids  flashed  into  sight.     The  captain 


240  Their  Wedding  Journey 

rose  up  from  his  seat,  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  and  waved  a  silence  with  it.  "  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "it's  very  important 
in  passing  these  rapids  to  keep  the  boat  per- 
fectly trim.  Please  to  remain  just  as  you  are." 

It  was  twilight,  for  the  boat  was  late.  From 
the  Indian  village  on  the  shore  they  signaled  to 
know  if  he  wanted  the  local  pilot ;  the  captain 
refused ;  and  then  the  steamer  plunged  into  the 
leaping  waves.  From  rock  to  rock  she  swerved 
and  sank ;  on  the  last  ledge  she  scraped  with  a 
deadly  touch  that  went  to  the  heart. 

Then  the  danger  was  passed,  and  the  noble 
city  of  Montreal  was  in  full  sight,  lying  at  the 
foot  of  her  dark  green  mountain,  and  lifting  her 
many  spires  into  the  rosy  twilight  air :  massive 
and  grand  showed  the  sister  towers  of  the 
French  cathedral. 

Basil  had  hoped  to  approach  this  famous  city 
with  just  associations.  He  had  meant  to  con- 
jure up  for  Isabel's  sake  some  reflex,  however 
faint,  of  that  beautiful  picture  Mr.  Parkman  has 
painted  of  Maisonneuve  founding  and  conse- 
crating Montreal.  He  flushed  with  the  recol- 
lection of  the  historian's  phrase ;  but  in  that 
moment  there  came  forth  from  the  cabin  a 
pretty  young  person  who  gave  every  token  of 
being  a  pretty  young  actress,  even  to  the 
duenna-like  elderly  female  companion,  to  be 


Down  the  St.  Lawrence  241 

detected  in  the  remote  background  of  every 
young  actress.  She  had  flirted  audaciously 
during  the  day  with  some  young  Englishmen 
and  Canadians  of  her  acquaintance,  and  after 
passing  the  La  Chine  Rapids  she  had  taken 
the  hearts  of  all  the  men  by  springing  suddenly 
to  her  feet,  apostrophizing  the  tumult  with  a 
charming  attitude,  and  warbling  a  delicious  bit 
of  song.  Now  as  they  drew  near  the  city  the 
Victoria  Bridge  stretched  its  long  tube  athwart 
the  river,  and  looked  so  low  because  of  its  great 
length  that  it  seemed  to  bar  the  steamer's 
passage. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  one  of  the  actress's  adorers, 
—  a  Canadian,  whose  face  was  exactly  that  of 
the  beaver  on  the  escutcheon  of  his  native  prov- 
ince, and  whose  heavy  gallantries  she  had 
constantly  received  with  a  gay,  impertinent 
nonchalance,  —  "I  wonder  if  we  can  be  going 
right  under  that  bridge  ?  " 

"No,  sir!"  answered  the  pretty  young  ac- 
tress with  shocking  promptness,  "  we  're  going 
right  over  it,  — 

'  Three  groans  and  a  guggle, 
And  an  awful  struggle, 
And  over  we  go  ! '  " 

At  this  witless,  sweet  impudence  the  Cana- 
dian looked  very  sheepish  —  for  a  beaver  ;  and 
all  the  other  people  laughed  ;  but  the  noble  his- 


242 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


torical  shades  of  Basil's  thought  vanished  in 
wounded  dignity  beyond  recall,  and  left  him 
feeling  rather  ashamed, — for  he  had  laughed 
too. 


J. 


Victoria   Bridge 


VIII 

THE    SENTIMENT    OF    MONTREAL 

THE  feeling  of  foreign  travel  for  which  our 
tourists  had  striven  throughout  their  journey, 
and  which  they  had  known  in  some  degree  at 
Kingston  and  all  the  way  down  the  river,  was 
intensified  from  the  first  moment  in  Montreal ; 
and  it  was  so  welcome  that  they  were  almost 
glad  to  lose  money  on  their  greenbacks,  which 
the  conductor  of  the  omnibus  would  take  only 
at  a  discount  of  twenty  cents.  At  breakfast 
next  morning  they  could  hardly  tell  on  what 
country  they  had  fallen.  The  waiters  had  but 
a  thin  varnish  of  English  speech  upon  their 
native  French,  and  they  spoke  their  own  tongue 
with  each  other ;  but  most  of  the  meats  were 
cooked  to  the  English  taste,  and  the  whole  was 
a  poor  imitation  of  an  American  hotel.  During 
their  stay  the  same  commingling  of  usages  and 
races  bewildered  them  ;  the  shops  were  English 
and  the  clerks  were  commonly  French ;  the 
carriage-drivers  were  often  Irish,  and  up  and 
down  the  streets  with  their  pious  old-fashioned 
names  tinkled  American  horse -cars.  Every- 


244  Their  Wedding  Journey 

where  were  churches  and  convents  that  recalled 
the  ecclesiastical  and  feudal  origin  of  the  city ; 
the  great  tubular  bridge,  the  superb  water-front 
with  its  long  array  of  docks  only  surpassed  by 
those  of  Liverpool,  the  solid  blocks  of  business 
houses,  and  the  substantial  mansions  on  the 
quieter  streets,  proclaimed  the  succession  of 
Protestant  thrift  and  energy. 

Our  friends  cared  far  less  for  the  modern 
splendor  of  Montreal  than  for  the  remnants  of 
its  past,  and  for  the  features  that  identified  it 
with  another  faith  and  another  people  than 
their  own.  Isabel  would  almost  have  confessed 
to  any  one  of  the  black-robed  priests  upon  the 
street  ;  Basil  could  easily  have  gone  down  upon 
his  knees  to  the  white-hooded,  pale-faced  nuns 
gliding  among  the  crowd.  It  was  rapture  to 
take  a  carriage,  and  drive,  not  to  the  cemetery, 
not  to  the  public  library,  not  to  the  rooms  of 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  or  the 
grain  elevators,  or  the  new  park  just  tricked  out 
with  rockwork  and  sprigs  of  evergreen,  —  not 
to  any  of  the  charming  resorts  of  our  own  cities, 
but  as  in  Europe  to  the  churches,  the  churches 
of  a  pitiless  superstition,  the  churches  with 
their  atrocious  pictures  and  statues,  their  linger- 
ing smell  of  the  morning's  incense,  their  con- 
fessionals, their  fee-taking  sacristans,  their  wor- 
shipers dropped  here  and  there  upon  their 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal 


245 


knees  about  the  aisles  and  saying  their  prayers 
with  shut  or  wandering  eyes  according  as  they 
were  old  women  or  young  !  I  do  not  defend 
the  feeble  sentimentality,  —  call  it  wickedness 
if  you  like,  —  but  I  understand  it,  and  I  forgive 
it  from  my  soul. 

They  went  first,  of  course,  to  the  French 
cathedral,  pausing  on 
their  way  to  alight  and 
walk  through  the  Bon- 
secours  Market,  where 
the  habitans  have  all 
come  in  their  carts,  with 
their  various  stores  of 
poultry,  fruit,  and  vege- 
tables, and  where  every 
cart  is  a  study.  Here 
is  a  simple-faced  young 
peasant  -  couple  with 
butter  and  eggs  and 
chickens  ravishingly 
displayed ;  here  is  a 
smooth-cheeked,  black- 
eyed,  black-haired  young 

girl,  looking  as  if  an  infusion  of  Indian  blood 
had  darkened  the  red  of  her  cheeks,  presiding 
over  a  stock  of  onions,  potatoes,  beets,  and 
turnips  ;  there  an  old  woman  with  a  face  carven 
like  a  walnut,  behind  a  flattering  array  of  cher- 


Bonsecoitrs  Market 


246  Their  Wedding  Journey 

ries  and  pears  ;  yonder  a  whole  family  traffick- 
ing in  loaves  of  brown-bread  and  maple-sugar 
in  many  shapes  of  pious  and  grotesque  device. 
There  are  gay  shows  of  bright  scarfs  and  ker- 
chiefs and  vari-colored  yarns,  and  sad  shows 
of  old  clothes  and  second-hand  merchandise  of 
other  sorts  ;  but  above  all  prevails  the  abundance 
of  orchard  and  garden,  while  within  the  fine 
edifice  are  the  stalls  of  the  butchers,  and  in  the 
basement  below  a  world  of  household  utensils, 
glassware,  hardware,  and  wooden  ware.  As  in 
other  Latin  countries,  each  peasant  has  given  a 
personal  interest  to  his  wares,  but  the  bargains 
are  not  clamored  over  as  in  Latin  lands  abroad. 
Whatever  protest  and  concession  and  invoca- 
tion of  the  saints  attend  the  transaction  of  busi- 
ness at  Bonsecours  Market  are  in  a  subdued 
tone.  The  fat  huckster-women  drowsing  be- 
side their  wares,  scarce  send  their  voices  be- 
yond the  borders  of  their  broad-brimmed  straw 
hats,  as  they  softly  haggle  with  purchasers,  or 
tranquilly  gossip  together. 

At  the  cathedral  there  are,  perhaps,  the  worst 
paintings  in  the  world,  and  the  massive  pine- 
board  pillars  are  unscrupulously  smoked  to  look 
like  marble ;  but  our  tourists  enjoyed  it  as  if 
it  had  been  St.  Peter's ;  in  fact  it  has  some- 
thing of  the  barn-like  immensity  and  impres- 
siveness  of  St.  Peter's.  They  did  not  ask  it  to 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  247 

be  beautiful  or  grand ;  they  desired  it  only 
to  recall  the  beloved  ugliness,  the  fondly  cher- 
ished hideousness  and  incongruity  of  the  aver- 
age Catholic  churches  of  their  remembrance, 
and  it  did  this  and  more  :  it  added  an  effect  of 
its  own  ;  it  offered  the  spectacle  of  a  swarthy 
old  Indian  kneeling  before  the  high  altar,  tell- 
ing his  beads,  and  saying  with  many  sighs  and 
tears  the  prayers  which  it  cost  so  much  martyr- 
dom and  heroism  to  teach  his  race.  "  Oh,  it  is 
only  a  savage  man,"  said  the  little  French  boy 
who  was  showing  them  the  place,  impatient  of 
their  interest  at  a  thing  so  unworthy  as  this 
groaning  barbarian.  He  ran  swiftly  about  from 
object  to  object,  rapidly  lecturing  their  inatten- 
tion. "  It  is  now  time  to  go  up  into  the  tower," 
said  he,  and  they  gladly  made  that  toilsome 
ascent,  though  it  is  doubtful  if  the  ascent  of 
towers  is  not  too  much  like  the  ascent  of  moun- 
tains ever  to  be  compensatory.  From  the  top 
of  Notre  Dame  is  certainly  to  be  had  a  pros- 
pect upon  which,  but  for  his  fluttered  nerves 
and  trembling  muscles  and  troubled  respira- 
tion, the  traveler  might  well  look  with  delight, 
and  as  it  is  must  behold  with  wonder.  So  far 
as  the  eye  reaches  it  dwells  only  upon  what 
is  magnificent.  All  the  features  of  that  land- 
scape are  grand.  Below  you  spreads  the  city, 
which  has  less  that  is  merely  mean  in  it  than 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


any  other  city  of  our  continent,  and  which  is 
everywhere  ennobled  by  stately  civic  edifices, 
adorned  by  tasteful  churches,  and  skirted  by 
full-foliaged  avenues  of  mansions  and  villas. 
Behind  it  rises  the  beautiful  mountain,  green 
with  woods  and  gardens  to  its  crest,  and  flanked 
on  the  east  by  an  endless  fertile  plain,  and  on 
the  west  by  another  expanse,  through  which  the 
Ottawa  rushes,  turbid  and  dark,  to  its  conflu- 
ence with  the  St.  Lawrence.  Then  these  two 
mighty  streams  commingled  flow  past  the  city, 
lighting  up  the  vast  champaign  country  to  the 
south,  while  upon  the  utmost  southern  verge, 
as  on  the  northern,  rise  the  cloudy  summits  of 
far-off  mountains. 

As  our  travelers  gazed  upon  all  this  gran- 
deur, their  hearts  were  humbled  to  the  tacit 
admission  that  the  colonial  metropolis  was  not 
only  worthy  of  its  seat,  but  had  traits  of  a  solid 
prosperity  not  excelled  by  any  of  the  abound- 
ing and  boastful  cities  of  the  Republic.  Long 
before  they  quitted  Montreal  they  had  rallied 
•from  this  weakness,  but  they  delighted  still  to 
honor  her  superb  beauty. 

The  tower  is  naturally  bescribbled  to  its  top 
with  the  names  of  those  who  have  climbed  it, 
and  most  of  these  are  Americans,  who  flock  in 
great  numbers  to  Canada  in  summer.  They 
modify  its  hotel  life,  and  the  objects  of  interest 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  249 

thrive  upon  their  bounty.  Our  friends  met 
them  at  every  turn,  and  knew  them  at  a  glance 
from  the  native  populations,  who  are  also  easily 
distinguishable  from  each  other.  The  French 
Canadians  are  nearly  always  of  a  peasant-like 
commonness,  or  where  they  rise  above  this  have 
a  bourgeois  commonness  of  face  and  manners, 
and  the  English  Canadians  are  to  be  known 
from  the  many  English  sojourners  by  the  ef- 
fort to  look  much  more  English  than  the  latter. 
The  social  heart  of  the  colony  clings  fast  to 
the  mother-country,  that  is  plain,  whatever  the 
political  tendency  may  be ;  and  the  public  mon- 
uments and  inscriptions  celebrate  this  affec- 
tionate union. 

At  the  English  cathedral  the  effect  is  deep- 
ened by  the  epitaphs  of  those  whose  lives  were 
passed  in  the  joint  service  of  England  and  her 
loyal  child  ;  and  our  travelers,  whatever  their 
want  of  sympathy  with  the  sentiment,  had  to 
own  to  a  certain  beauty  in  that  attitude  of  proud 
reverence.  Here,  at  least,  was  a  people  not  cut 
off  from  its  past,  but  holding,  unbroken  in  life 
and  death,  the  ties  which  exist  for  us  only  in 
history.  It  gave  a  glamour  of  olden  time  to  the 
new  land ;  it  touched  the  prosaic  democratic 
present  with  the  waning  poetic  light  of  the  aris- 
tocratic and  monarchical  tradition.  There  was 
here  and  there  a  title  on  the  tablets,  and  there 


250  Their  Wedding  Journey 

was  everywhere  the  formal  language  of  loyalty 
and  of  veneration  for  things  we  have  tumbled 
into  the  dust.  It  is  a  beautiful  church,  of  ad- 
mirable English  Gothic ;  if  you  are  so  happy, 
you  are  rather  curtly  told  you  may  enter  by  a 
burly  English  figure  in  some  kind  of  sombre 
ecclesiastical  drapery,  and  within  its  quiet  pre- 
cincts you  may  feel  yourself  in  England  if  you 
like,  —  which,  for  my  part,  I  do  not.  Neither 
did  our  friends  enjoy  it  so  much  as  the  Church 
of  the  Jesuits,  with  its  more  than  tolerable 
painting,  its  coldly  frescoed  ceiling,  its  archi- 
tectural taste  of  subdued  Renaissance,  and  its 
black-eyed  peasant-girl  telling  her  beads  before 
a  side  altar,  just  as  in  the  enviably  deplorable 
countries  we  all  love ;  nor  so  much  even  as  the 
Irish  cathedral  which  they  next  visited.  That 
is  a  very  gorgeous  cathedral  indeed,  painted 
and  gilded  a  merveilley  and  everywhere  stuck 
about  with  big  and  little  saints  and  crucifixes, 
and  pictures  incredibly  bad  —  but  for  those  in 
the  French  cathedral.  There  is,  of  course,  a 
series  representing  Christ's  progress  to  Calvary  ; 
and  there  was  a  very  tattered  old  man,  —  an  old 
man  whose  voice  had  been  long  ago  drowned  in 
whiskey,  and  who  now  spoke  in  a  ghostly  whis- 
per, —  who,  when  he  saw  Basil's  eye  fall  upon 
the  series,  made  him  go  the  round  of  them,  and 
tediously  explained  them. 


7  he  Sentiment  of  Montreal  2  5 1 


"  Why  did  you  let  that  old  wretch  bore  you, 
and  then  pay  him  for  it  ? "  Isabel  asked. 

"  Oh,  it  reminded  me  so  sweetly  of  the  swin- 
dles of  other  lands  and  days,  that  I  could  n't  help 
it,"  he  answered  ;  and  straightway  in  the  eyes 
of  both  that  poor,  whiskeyfied,  Irish  tatterde- 
malion stood  transfigured  to  the  glorious  like- 
ness of  an  Italian  beggar. 

They  were  always  doing  something  of  this 
kind,  those  absurdly  sentimental  people,  whom 
yet  I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  blame  for 
their  folly,  though  I  could  name  ever  so  many 
reasons  for  rebuking  it.  Why,  in  fact,  should 
we  wish  to  find  America  like  Europe  ?  Are  the 
ruins  and  impostures  and  miseries  and  super- 
stitions which  beset  the  traveler  abroad  so  pre- 
cious, that  he  should  desire  to  imagine  them  at 
every  step  in  his  own  hemisphere  ?  Or  have  we 
then  of  our  own  no  effective  shapes  of  ignorance 
and  want  and  incredibility,  that  we  must  forever 
seek  an  alien  contrast  to  our  native  intelligence 
and  comfort  ?  Some  such  questions  this  guilty 
couple  put  to  each  other,  and  then  drove  off  to 
visit  the  convent  of  the  Gray  Nuns  with  a  joyful 
expectation  which  I  suppose  the  prospect  of  the 
finest  public-school  exhibition  in  Boston  could 
never  have  inspired.  But,  indeed,  since  there 
must  be  Gray  Nuns,  is  it  not  well  that  there  are 
sentimentalists  to  take  a  mournful  pleasure  in 
their  sad,  pallid  existence  ? 


252  Their  Wedding  Journey 

The  convent  is  at  a  good  distance  from  the 
Irish  cathedral,  and  in  going  to  it  the  tourists 
made  their  driver  carry  them  through  one  of  the 
few  old  French  streets  which  still  remain  in 
Montreal.  Fires  and  improvements  had  made 
havoc  among  the  quaint  houses  since  Basil's 
first  visit ;  but  at  last  they  came  upon  a  nar- 
row, ancient  Rue  Saint  Antoine,  —  or  whatever 
other  saint  it  was  called  after,  —  in  which  there 
was  no  English  face  or  house  to  be  seen.  The 
doors  of  the  little  one-story  dwellings  opened 
from  the  pavement,  and  within  you  saw  fat  ma- 
dame  the  mother  moving  about  her  domestic 
affairs,  and  spare  monsieur  the  elderly  husband 
smoking  beside  the  open  window ;  French  ba- 
bies crawled  about  the  tidy  floors  ;  French  mar- 
tyrs (let  us  believe  Lalement  or  Brebeuf,  who 
gave  up  their  heroic  lives  for  the  conversion  of 
Canada)  lifted  their  eyes  in  high-colored  litho- 
graphs on  the  wall  ;  among  the  flower-pots  in 
the  dormer-window  looking  from  every  tin  roof 
sat  and  sewed  a  smooth-haired  young  girl,  I 
hope,  —  the  romance  of  each  little  mansion. 
The  antique  and  foreign  character  of  the  place 
was  accented  by  the  inscription  upon  a  wall  of 
"  Sirop  adoucissant  de  Madame  Winslow." 

Ever  since  1692  the  Gray  Nuns  have  made  a 
refuge  within  the  ample  borders  of  their  convent 
for  infirm  old  people  and  for  foundling  children, 


The  Gray  Artt 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  255 

and  it  is  now  in  the  regular  course  of  sight-see- 
ing for  the  traveler  to  visit  their  hospital  at 
noonday,  when  he  beholds  the  Sisters  at  their 
devotions  in  the  chapel.  It  is  a  bare,  white- 
walled,  cold-looking  chapel,  with  the  usual  para- 
phernalia of  pictures  and  crucifixes.  Seated 
upon  low  benches  on  either  side  of  the  aisle 
were  the  curious  or  the  devout ;  the  former  in 
greater  number  and  chiefly  Americans,  who 
were  now  and  then  whispered  silent  by  an  old 
pauper  zealous  for  the  sanctity  of  the  place.  At 
the  stroke  of  twelve  the  Sisters  entered  two  by 
two,  followed  by  the  lady-superior  with  a  prayer- 
book  in  her  hand.  She  clapped  the  leaves  of 
this  together  in  signal  for  them  to  kneel,  to  rise, 
to  kneel  again  and  rise,  while  they  repeated  in 
rather  harsh  voices  their  prayers,  and  then  clat- 
tered out  of  the  chapel  as  they  had  clattered  in, 
with  resounding  shoes.  The  two  young  girls  at 
the  head  were  very  pretty,  and  all  the  pale  faces 
had  a  corpse-like  peace.  As  Basil  looked  at 
their  pensive  sameness,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
those  prettiest  girls  might  very  well  be  the  twain 
that  he  had  seen  there  so  many  years  ago, 
stricken  forever  young  in  their  joyless  beauty. 
The  ungraceful  gowns  of  coarse  gray,  the  blue 
checked  aprons,  the  black  crape  caps,  were  the 
same  ;  they  came  and  went  with  the  same  quick 
tread,  touching  their  brows  with  holy  water  and 


256  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

kneeling  and  rising  now  as  then  with  the  same 
constrained  and  ordered  movements.  Would  it 
be  too  cruel  if  they  were  really  the  same  per- 
sons ?  or  would  it  be  yet  more  cruel  if  every  year 
two  girls  so  young  and  fair  were  self-doomed  to 
renew  the  likeness  of  that  youthful  death  ? 

The  visitors  went  about  the  hospital,  and  saw 
the  old  men  and  the  little  children  to  whom 
these  good  pure  lives  were  given,  and  they  could 
only  blame  the  system,  not  the  instruments  of 
their  work.  Perhaps  they  did  not  judge  wisely 
of  the  amount  of  self-sacrifice  involved,  for  they 
judged  from  hearts  to  which  love  was  the  whole 
of  earth  and  heaven ;  but  nevertheless  they 
pitied  the  Gray  Nuns  amidst  the  unhomelike 
comfort  of  their  convent,  the  unnatural  care  of 
those  alien  little  ones.  Poor  Soeurs  Crises !  in 
their  narrow  cells  ;  at  the  bedside  of  sickness 
and  age  and  sorrow ;  kneeling  with  clasped 
hands  and  yearning  eyes  before  the  bloody  spec- 
tacle of  the  cross  !  — the  power  of  your  Church 
is  shown  far  more  subtly  and  mightily  in  such 
as  you,  than  in  her  grandest  fanes  or  the  sight 
of  her  most  august  ceremonies,  with  praying 
priests,  swinging  censers,  tapers  and  pictures 
and  images,  under  a  gloomy  heaven  of  cathedral 
arches.  There,  indeed,  the  faithful  have  given 
their  substance  ;  but  here  the  nun  has  given  up 
the  most  precious  part  of  her  woman's  nature, 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  257 


and  all  the  tenderness    that  clings  about   the 
thought  of  wife  and  mother. 

"  There  are  some  things  that  always  greatly 
afflict  me  in  the  idea  of  a  new  country,"  said 
Basil,  as  they  loitered  slowly  through  the 
grounds  of  the  convent  toward  the  gate.  "  Of 
course,  it 's  absurd  to  think  of  men  as  other 
than  men,  as  having  changed  their  natures  with 
their  skies  ;  but  a  new  land  always  does  seem 
at  first  thoughts  like  a  new  chance  afforded 
the  race  for  goodness  and  happiness,  for  health 
and  life.  So  I  grieve  for  the  earliest  dead  at 
Plymouth  more  than  for  the  multitude  that  the 
plague  swept  away  in  London ;  I  shudder  over 
the  crime  of  the  first  guilty  man,  the  sin  of  the 
first  wicked  woman  in  a  new  country ;  the 
trouble  of  the  first  youth  or  maiden  crossed  in 
love  there  is  intolerable.  All  should  be  hope 
and  freedom  and  prosperous  life  upon  that  vir- 
gin soil.  It  never  was  so  since  Eden  ;  but  none 
the  less  I  feel  it  ought  to  be ;  and  I  am  op- 
pressed by  the  thought  that  among  the  earliest 
walls  which  rose  upon  this  broad  meadow  of 
Montreal  were  those  built  to  immure  the  inno- 
cence of  such  young  girls  as  these  and  shut  them 
from  the  life  we  find  so  fair.  Would  n't  you 
like  to  know  who  was  the  first  that  took  the 
veil  in  this  wild  new  country  ?  Who  was  she, 
poor  soul,  and  what  was  her  deep  sorrow  or 


258  Their  Wedding  Journey 

lofty  rapture  ?  You  can  fancy  her  some  Indian 
maiden  lured  to  the  renunciation  by  the  splendor 
of  symbols  and  promises  seen  vaguely  through 
the  lingering  mists  of  her  native  superstitions ; 
or  some  weary  soul,  sick  from  the  vanities  and 
vices,  the  bloodshed  and  the  tears  of  the  Old 
World,  and  eager  for  a  silence  profounder  than 
that  of  the  wilderness  into  which  she  had  fled. 
Well,  the  Church  knows,  and  God.  She  was 
dust  long  ago." 

From  time  to  time  there  had  fallen  little  fitful 
showers  during  the  morning.  Now  as  the  wed- 
ding-journeyers  passed  out  of  the  convent  gate 
the  rain  dropped  soft  and  thin,  and  the  gray 
clouds  that  floated  through  the  sky  so  swiftly 
were  as  far -seen  Gray  Sisters  in  flight  for 
heaven. 

"We  shall  have  time  for  the  drive  round  the 
mountain  before  dinner,"  said  Basil,  as  they  got 
into  their  carriage  again  ;  and  he  was  giving  the 
order  to  the  driver,  when  Isabel  asked  how  far 
it  was. 

"Nine  miles." 

"  Oh,  then  we  can't  think  of  going  with  one 
horse.  You  know,"  she  added,  "  that  we  always 
intended  to  have  two  horses  for  going  round  the 
mountain." 

"No,"  said  Basil,  not  yet  used  to  having  his 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  259 

decisions  reached  without  his  knowledge.  "  And 
I  don't  see  why  we*  should.  Everybody  goes 
with  one.  You  don't  suppose  we  're  too  heavy, 
do  you  ? " 

"  I  had  a  party  from  the  States,  ma'am,  yes- 
terday," interposed  the  driver;  "two  ladies,  real 
heavy  ones,  two  gentlemen,  weighin'  two  hun- 
dred apiece,  and  a  stout  young  man  on  the  box 
with  me.  You'd  'a'  thought  the  horse  was 
drawin'  an  empty  carriage,  the  way  she  darted 
along." 

"Then  his  horse  must  be  perfectly  worn  out 
to-day,"  said  Isabel,  refusing  to  admit  the  poor 
fellow  directly  even  to  the  honors  of  a  defeat. 
He  had  proved  too  much,  and  was  put  out  of 
court  with  no  hope  of  repairing  his  error. 

"Why,  it  seems  a  pity,"  whispered  Basil,  dis- 
passionately, "  to  turn  this  man  adrift,  when  he 
had  a  reasonable  hope  of  being  with  us  all  day, 
and  has  been  so  civil  and  obliging." 

"  Oh  yes,  Basil,  sentimentalize  him,  do  !  Why 
don't  you  sentimentalize  his  helpless,  overworked 
horse  ?  —  all  in  a  reek  of  perspiration." 

"  Perspiration !  Why,  my  dear,  it  's  the 
rain  !  " 

"  Well,  rain  or  shine,  darling,  I  don't  want  to 
go  round  the  mountain  with  one  horse ;  and  it 's 
very  unkind  of  you  to  insist  now,  when  you  've 
tacitly  promised  me  all  along  to  take  two." 


260  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"  Now,  this  is  a  little  too  much,  Isabel.  You 
know  we  never  mentioned  the  matter  till  this 
moment." 

"  It  's  the  same  as  a  promise,  your  not  saying 
you  wouldn't.  But  I  don't  ask  you  to  keep 
your  word.  /  don't  want  to  go  round  the  moun- 
tain. I  'd  mucJi  rather  go  to  the  hotel.  I  'm 
tired." 

"  Very  well,  then,  Isabel,  I  '11  leave  you  at  the 
hotel." 

In  a  moment  it  had  come,  the  first  serious 
dispute  of  their  wedded  life.  It  had  come  as  all 
such  calamities  come,  from  nothing,  and  it  was 
on  them  in  full  disaster  ere  they  knew.  Such 
a  very  little  while  ago,  there  in  the  convent  gar- 
den, their  lives  had  been  drawn  closer  in  sym- 
pathy than  ever  before  ;  and  now  that  blessed 
time  seemed  ages  since,  and  they  were  further 
asunder  than  those  who  have  never  been  friends. 
"I  thought,"  bitterly  mused  Isabel,  "that  he 
would  have  done  anything  for  me."  "Who 
could  have  dreamed  that  a  woman  of  her  sense 
would  be  so  unreasonable,"  he  wondered.  Both 
had  tempers,  as  I  know  my  dearest  reader  has 
(if  a  lady),  and  neither  would  yield ;  and  so, 
presently,  they  could  hardly  tell  how,  for  they 
were  aghast  at  it  all,  Isabel  was  alone  in  her 
room  amidst  the  ruins  of  her  life,  and  Basil  alone 
in  the  one-horse  carriage,  trying  to  drive  away 


The  First  Serious  Dispute 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal 


263 


Repenting 

from  the  wreck  of  his  happiness.  All  was  over  ; 
the  dream  was  past ;  the  charm  was  broken. 
The  sweetness  of  their  love  was  turned  to 
gall ;  whatever  had  pleased  them  in  their  loving 
moods  was  loathsome  now,  and  the  things  they 
had  praised  a  moment  before  were  hateful.  In 
that  baleful  light,  which  seemed  to  dwell  upon 
all  they  ever  said  or  did  in  mutual  enjoyment, 
how  poor  and  stupid  and  empty  looked  their 
wedding  journey  !  Basil  spent  five  minutes  in 


264  Their  Wedding  Journey 

arraigning  his  wife  and  convicting  her  of  every 
folly  and  fault.  His  soul  was  in  a  whirl,  — 

"  For  to  be  wroth  with  one  we  love 
Doth  work  like  madness  in  the  brain." 

In  the  midst  of  his  bitter  and  furious  upbraid- 
ings  he  found  himself  suddenly  become  her 
ardent  advocate,  and  ready  to  denounce  her 
judge  as  a  heartless  monster.  "  On  our  wed- 
ding journey,  too !  Good  heavens,  what  an  in- 
credible brute  I  am!"  Then  he  said,  "What 
an  ass  I  am  ! "  And  the  pathos  of  the  case 
having  yielded  to  its  absurdity,  he  was  helpless. 
In  five  minutes  more  he  was  at  Isabel's  side, 
the  one-horse  carriage  driver  dismissed  with  a 
handsome  pour-boire,  and  a  pair  of  lusty  bays 
with  a  glittering  barouche  waiting  at  the  door 
below.  He  swiftly  accounted  for  his  presence, 
which  she  seemed  to  find  the  most  natural  thing 
that  could  be,  and  she  met  his  surrender  with 
the  openness  of  a  heart  that  forgives  but  does 
not  forget,  if  indeed  the  most  gracious  art  is  the 
only  one  unknown  to  the  sex. 

She  rose  with  a  smile  from  the  ruins  of  her 
life,  amidst  which  she  had  heart-brokenly  sat 
down  with  all  her  things  on.  "  I  knew  you  'd 
come  back,"  she  said. 

"  So  did  I,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  much  too 
good  and  noble  to  sacrifice  my  preference  to  my 
duty." 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  265 

"  I  did  n't  care  particularly  for  the  two  horses, 
Basil,"  she  said,  as  they  descended  to  the 
barouche.  "  It  was  your  refusing  them  that 
hurt  me." 

"  And  I  did  n't  want  the  one-horse  carriage. 
It  was  your  insisting  so  that  provoked  me." 

"  Do  you  think  people  ever  quarreled  before 
on  a  wedding  journey  ? "  asked  Isabel  as  they 
drove  gayly  out  of  the  city. 

"  Never  !  I  can't  conceive  of  it.  I  suppose 
if  this  were  written  down,  nobody  would  believe 
it." 

"  No,  nobody  could,"  said  Isabel  musingly, 
and  she  added  after  a  pause,  "  I  wish  you  would 
tell  me  just  what  you  thought  of  me,  dearest. 
Did  you  feel  as  you  did  when  our  little  affair 
was  broken  off,  long  ago  ?  Did  you  hate  me  ?  " 

"  I  did,  most  cordially ;  but  not  half  so  much 
as  I  despised  myself  the  next  moment.  As  to 
its  being  like  a  lover's  quarrel,  it  was  n't.  It 
was  more  bitter ;  so  much  more  love  than  lovers 
ever  give  had  to  be  taken  back.  Besides,  it  had 
no  dignity,  and  a  lover's  quarrel  always  has.  A 
lover's  quarrel  always  springs  from  a  more  seri- 
ous cause,  and  has  an  air  of  romantic  tragedy. 
This  had  no  grace  of  the  kind.  It  was  a  poor 
shabby  little  squabble." 

"  Oh,  don't  call  it  so,  Basil  !  I  should  like  you 
to  respect  even  a  quarrel  of  ours  more  than 


266  Their  Wedding  Journey 

that.  It  was  tragical  enough  with  me,  for  I  did 
n't  see  how  it  could  ever  be  made  up.  I  knew  / 
could  n't  make  the  advances.  I  don't  think  it  is 
quite  feminine  to  be  the  first  to  forgive,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  say.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
rather  unladylike." 

"  Well,  you  see,  dearest,  what  I  am  trying  to 
get  at  is  this  :  whether  we  shall  love  each  other 
the  more  or  the  less  for  it.  /  think  we  shall  get 
on  all  the  better  for  a  while,  on  account  of  it. 
But  I  should  have  said  it  was  totally  out  of  char- 
acter. It 's  something  you  might  have  expected 
of  a  very  young  bridal  couple ;  but  after  what 
we  've  been  through,  it  seems  too  improbable." 

"Very  well,"  said  Basil,  who,  having  made  all 
the  concessions,  could  not  enjoy  the  quarrel  as 
she  did,  simply  because  it  was  theirs  ;  "  let  's 
behave  as  if  it  had  never  been." 

"  Oh  no,  we  can't.  To  me,  it's  as  if  we  had 
just  won  each  other." 

In  fact  it  gave  a  wonderful  zest  and  freshness 
to  that  ride  round  the  mountain,  and  shed  a 
beneficent  glow  upon  the  rest  of  their  journey. 
The  sun  came  out  through  the  thin  clouds,  and 
lighted  up  the  vast  plain  that  swept  away  north 
and  east,  with  the  purple  heights  against  the 
eastern  sky.  The  royal  mountain  lifted  its  grace- 
ful mass  beside  them,  and  hid  the  city  wholly 
from  sight.  Peasant-villages,  in  the  shade  of 


\ 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  267 

beautiful  elms,  dotted  the  plain  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  at  intervals  crept  up  to  the  side  of  the 
road  along  which  they  drove.  But  these  had 
been  corrupted  by  a  more  ambitious  architec- 
ture since  Basil  saw  them  last,  and  were  no 
longer  purely  French  in  appearance.  Then, 
nearly  every  house  was  a  tannery  in  a  modest 
way,  and  poetically  published  the  fact  by  the 
display  of  a  sheep's  tail  over  the  front  door,  like 
a  bush  at  a  wine-shop.  Now,  if  the  tanneries 
still  existed,  the  poetry  of  the  sheep's  tails  had 
vanished  from  the  portals.  But  our  friends 
were  consoled  by  meeting  numbers  of  the  peas- 
ants jolting  home  from  market  in  the  painted 
carts  which  are  doubtless  of  the  pattern  of  the 
carts  first  built  there  two  hundred  years  ago. 
They  were  grateful  for  the  immortal  old  women, 
crooked  and  brown  with  the  labor  of  the  fields, 
who  abounded  in  these  vehicles  ;  when  a  huge 
girl  jumped  from  the  tail  of  her  cart,  and  showed 
the  thick,  clumsy  ankles  of  a  true  peasant-maid, 
they  could  only  sigh  out  their  unspeakable  satis- 
faction. 

Gardens  embowered  and  perfumed  the  low 
cottages,  through  the  open  doors  of  which  they 
could  see  the  exquisite  neatness  of  the  life 
within.  One  of  the  doors  opened  into  a  school- 
house,  where  they  beheld  with  rapture  the 
schoolmistress,  book  in  hand,  and  with  a  quaint 


268 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


cap  on  her  gray  head,  and  encircled  by  her  flock 
of  little  boys  and  girls. 

By  and  by  it  began  to  rain  again  ;  and  now 
while  their  driver  stopped  to  put  up  the  top  of 
the  barouche,  they  entered  a  country  church 

which  had  taken 
their  fancy,  and 
walked  up  the  aisle 
with  the  steps  that 
blend  with  silence 
rather  than  break 
it,  while  they  heard 
only  the  soft  whis- 
per of  the  shower 
without.  There 
was  no  one  there 
but  themselves. 
The  urn  of  holy 
water  seemed  not 
to  have  been  trou- 
bled that  day,  and 
no  penitent  knelt 
at  the  shrine,  be- 
fore which  twink- 
led so  faintly  one 
lighted  lamp.  The  white  roof  swelled  into  dim 
arches  over  their  heads  ;  the  pale  day  like  a  vis- 
ible hush  stole  through  the  painted  windows  ; 
they  heard  themselves  breathe  as  they  crept 
from  picture  to  picture. 


A  Slender  Young  Priest  appeared 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  269 

A  narrow  door  opened  at  the  side  of  the  high 
altar,  and  a  slender  young  priest  appeared  in  a 
long  black  robe,  and  with  shaven  head.  He,  too, 
as  he  moved  with  noiseless  feet,  seemed  a  part 
of  the  silence  ;  and  when  he  approached  with 
dreamy  black  eyes  fixed  upon  them,  and  bowed 
courteously,  it  seemed  impossible  he  should 
speak.  But  he  spoke,  the  pale  young  priest,  the 
dark-robed  tradition,  the  tonsured  vision  of  an 
age  and  a  church  that  are  passing. 

"Do  you  understand  French,  monsieur?" 

"  A  very  little,  monsieur." 

"  A  very  little  is  more  than  my  English,"  he 
said,  yet  he  politely  went  the  round  of  the  pic- 
tures with  them,  and  gave  them  the  names  of 
the  painters  between  his  crossings  at  the  differ- 
ant  altars.  At  the  high  altar  there  was  a  very 
fair  Crucifixion  ;  before  this  the  priest  bent  one 
knee.  "  Fine  picture,  fine  altar,  fine  church," 
he  said  in  English.  At  last  they  stopped  near 
the  poor-box.  As  their  coins  clinked  against 
those  within,  he  smiled  serenely  upon  the  good 
heretics.  Then  he  bowed,  and,  as  if  he  had 
relapsed  into  the  past,  he  vanished  through  the 
the  narrow  door  by  which  he  had  entered. 

Basil  and  Isabel  stood  speechless  a  moment 
on  the  church  steps.  Then  she  cried,  — 

"  Oh,  why  did  n't  something  happen  ?  " 

"Ah,  my  dear!   what  could   have   been  half 


270  Their  Wedding  Journey 

so  good  as  the  nothing  that  did  happen  ?  Sup- 
pose we  knew  him  to  have  taken  orders  be- 
cause of  a  disappointment  in  love :  how  com- 
mon it  would  have  made  him  ;  everybody  has 
been  crossed  in  love  once  or  twice."  He  bade 
the  driver  take  them  back  to  the  hotel.  "  This 
is  the  very  bouquet  of  adventure  :  why  should 
we  care  for  the  grosser  body  ?  I  dare  say  if 
we  knew  all  about  yonder  pale  young  priest,  we 
should  not  think  him  half  so  interesting  as  we 
do  now.'' 

At  dinner  they  spent  the  intervals  of  the 
courses  in  guessing  the  nationality  of  the  dif- 
ferent persons,  and  in  wondering  if  the  Cana- 
dians did  not  make  it  a  matter  of  conscientious 
loyalty  to  out-English  the  English  even  in  the 
matter  of  pale  ale  and  sherry,  and  in  rotundity 
of  person  and  freshness  of  face,  just  as  they 
emulated  them  in  the  cut  of  their  clothes  and 
whiskers.  Must  they  found  even  their  health 
upon  the  health  of  their  mother  country  ? 

Our  friends  began  to  detect  something  servile 
in  it  all,  and  but  that  they  were  such  amiable  per- 
sons, the  loyally  perfect  digestion  of  Montreal 
would  have  gone  far  to  impair  their  own. 

The  loyalty,  which  had  already  appeared  to 
them  in  the  cathedral,  suggested  itself  in  many 
ways  upon  the  street,  when  they  went  out  after 
dinner  to  do  that  little  shopping  which  Isabel 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  271 

had  planned  to  do  in  Montreal.  The  booksell- 
ers' windows  were  full  of  Canadian  editions  of 
our  authors,  and  English  copies  of  English 
works,  instead  of  our  pirated  editions ;  the  dry- 
goods  stores  were  gay  with  fabrics  in  the  Lon- 
don taste  and  garments  of  the  London  shape  ; 
here  was  the  sign  of  a  photographer  to  the 
Queen,  there  of  a  hatter  to  H.  R.  H.  the  Prince 
of  Wales  ;  a  barber  was  "  under  the  patronage  of 
H.  R.  H.  the  Prince  of  Wales,  H.  E.  the  Duke 
of  Cambridge,  and  the  gentry  of  Montreal." 
Ich  dien  was  the  motto  of  a  restaurateur;  a 
hosier  had  gallantly  labeled  his  stock  in  trade 
with  Honi  soit  qni  mat  y  pense.  Again  they 
noted  the  English  solidity  of  the  civic  edifices, 
and  already  they  had  observed  in  the  foreign 
population  a  difference  from  that  at  home. 
They  saw  no  German  faces  on  the  streets,  and 
the  Irish  faces  had  not  that  truculence  which 
they  wear  sometimes  with  us.  They  had  not 
lost  their  native  simpleness  and  kindliness ; 
the  Irishmen  who  drove  the  public  carriages 
were  as  civil  as  our  own  Boston  hackmen,  and 
behaved  as  respectfully  under  the  shadow  of 
England  here  as  they  would  have  done  under  it 
in  Ireland.  The  problem  which  vexes  us  seems 
to  have  been  solved  pleasantly  enough  in  Can- 
ada. Is  it  because  the  Celt  cannot  brook 
equality ;  and  where  he  has  not  an  established 


272  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  recognized  caste  above  him,  longs  to  tram- 
ple on  those  about  him  ;  and  if  he  cannot  be 
lowest,  will  at  least  be  highest  ? 

However,  our  friends  did  not  suffer  this  or 
any  other  advantage  of  the  colonial  relation  to 
divert  them  from  the  opinion  to  which  their 
observation  was  gradually  bringing  them,  — 
that  its  overweening  loyalty  placed  a  great 
country  like  Canada  in  a  very  silly  attitude,  the 
attitude  of  an  overgrown,  unmanly  boy,  cling- 
ing to  the  maternal  skirts,  and  though  spoilt 
and  willful,  without  any  character  of  his  own. 
The  constant  reference  of  local  hopes  to  that 
remote  centre  beyond  seas,  the  test  of  success 
by  the  criterions  of  a  necessarily  different  civil- 
ization, the  social  and  intellectual  dependence 
implied  by  traits  that  meet  the  most  hurried 
glance  in  the  Dominion,  give  an  effect  of  mean- 
ness to  the  whole  fabric.  Doubtless  it  is  a  life 
of  comfort,  of  peace,  of  irresponsibility  they 
live  there,  but  it  lacks  the  grandeur  which  no 
sum  of  material  prosperity  can  give ;  it  is 
ignoble,  like  all  voluntarily  subordinate  things. 
Somehow,  one  feels  that  it  has  no  basis  in  the 
New  World,  and  that  till  it  has  shaken  loose 
from  England  it  cannot  have. 

It  would  be  a  pity,  however,  if  it  should  be 
parted  from  the  parent  country  merely  to  be 
joined  to  an  unsympathetic  half-brother  like 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  273 

ourselves,  and  nothing,  fortunately,  seems  to  be 
further  from  the  Canadian  mind.  There  are 
some  experiments  no  longer  possible  to  us 
which  could  still  be  tried  there  to  the  advan- 
tage of  civilization,  and  we  were  better  two 
great  nations  side  by  side  than  a  union  of  dis- 
cordant traditions  and  ideas.  But  none  the 
less  does  the  American  traveler,  swelling  with 
forgetfulness  of  the  shabby  despots  who  govern 
New  York,  and  the  swindling  railroad  kings 
whose  word  is  law  to  the  whole  land,  feel  like 
saying  to  the  hulking  young  giant  beyond  St. 
Lawrence  and  the  Lakes,  "  Sever  the  apron- 
strings  of  allegiance,  and  try  to  be  yourself 
whatever  you  are." 

Something  of  this  sort  Basil  said,  though  of 
course  not  in  apostrophic  phrase,  nor  with 
Isabel's  entire  concurrence,  when  he  explained 
to  her  that  it  was  to  the  colonial  dependence  of 
Canada  she  owed  the  ability  to  buy  things  so 
cheaply  there. 

The  fact  is  that  the  ladies'  parlor  at  the 
hotel  had  been  after  dinner  no  better  than  a 
den  of  smugglers,  in  which  the  fair  contraband- 
ists had  debated  the  best  means  of  evading  the 
laws  of  their  country.  At  heart  every  man  is 
a  smuggler,  and  how  much  more  every  woman  ! 
She  would  have  no  scruple  in  ruining  the  silk  and 
woolen  interest  throughout  the  United  States. 


274  Their  Wedding  Journey 


She  is  a  free-trader  by  intuitive  perception  of 
right,  and  is  limited  in  practice  by  nothing  but 
fear  of  the  statute.  What  could  be  taken  into 
the  States  without  detection,  was  the  subject 
before  that  wicked  conclave ;  and  next,  what 
it  would  pay  to  buy  in  Canada.  It  seemed 
that  silk  umbrellas  were  most  eligible  wares; 
and  in  the  display  of  such  purchases  the  parlor 
was  given  the  appearance  of  a  violent  thunder- 
storm. Gloves  it  was  not  advisable  to  get ; 
they  were  better  at  home,  as  were  many  kinds 
of  fine  woolen  goods.  But  laces,  which  you 
could  carry  about  you,  were  excellent ;  and  so 
was  any  kind  of  silk.  Could  it  be  carried  if 
simply  cut,  and  not  made  up  ?  There  was  a 
difference  about  this  :  the  friend  of  one  lady 
had  taken  home  half  a  trunkful  of  cut  silks ; 
the  friend  of  another  had  "  run  up  the  breadths  " 
of  one  lone  little  silk  skirt,  and  then  lost  it  by 
the  rapacity  of  the  customs  officers.  It  was 
pretty  much  luck,  and  whether  the  officers  hap- 
pened to  be  in  good-humor  or  not.  You  must 
not  try  to  take  in  anything  out  of  season,  how- 
ever. One  had  heard  of  a  Boston  lady  going 
home  in  July,  who  "  had  the  furs  taken  off  her 
back,"  in  that  inclement  month.  Best  get  every- 
thing seasonable,  and  put  it  on  at  once.  "And 
then,  you  know,  if  they  ask  you,  you  can  say 
it 's  been  worn."  To  this  black  wisdom  came 


Shopping  in  Montreal 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  277 

the  combined  knowledge  of  those  miscreants. 
Basil  could  not  repress  a  shudder  at  the  in- 
nate depravity  of  the  female  heart.  Here  were 
virgins  nurtured  in  the  most  spotless  purity  of 
life,  here  were  virtuous  mothers  of  families, 
here  were  venerable  matrons,  patterns  in  soci- 
ety and  the  church,  —  smugglers  to  a  woman, 
and  eager  for  any  guilty  subterfuge !  He 
glanced  at  Isabel  to  see  what  effect  the  evil 
conversation  had  upon  her.  Her  eyes  spark- 
led ;  her  cheeks  glowed  ;  all  the  woman  was 
on  fire  for  smuggling.  He  sighed  heavily  and 
went  out  with  her  to  do  the  little  shopping. 

Shall  I  follow  them  upon  their  excursion  ? 
Shopping  in  Montreal  is  very  much  what  it  is 
in  Boston  or  New  York,  I  imagine,  except  that 
the  clerks  have  a  more  honeyed  sweetness  of 
manners  towards  the  ladies  of  our  nation,  and 
are  surprisingly  generous  constructionists  of 
our  revenue  laws.  Isabel  had  profited  by  every 
word  that  she  had  heard  in  the  ladies'  parlor, 
and  she  would  not  venture  upon  unsafe  ground ; 
but  her  tender  eyes  looked  her  unutterable 
longing  to  believe  in  the  charming  possibilities 
that  the  clerks  suggested.  She  bemoaned  her- 
self before  the  corded  silks,  which  there  was  no 
time  to  have  made  up ;  the  piece  velvets  and 
the  linens  smote  her  to  the  heart.  But  they 
also  stimulated  her  invention,  and  she  bought 


278  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  bought  of  the  made-up  wares  in  real  or  fan- 
cied needs,  till  Basil  represented  that  neither 
their  purses  nor  their  trunks  could  stand  any 
more.  "  Oh,  don't  be  troubled  about  the  trunks, 
dearest,"  she  cried,  with  that  gayety  which 
nothing  but  shopping  can  kindle  in  a  woman's 
heart ;  while  he  faltered  on  from  counter  to 
counter,  wondering  at  which  he  should  finally 
swoon  from  fatigue.  At  last,  after  she  had 
declared  repeatedly,  "  There,  now  I  am  done," 
she  briskly  led  the  way  back  to  the  hotel  to 
pack  up  her  purchases. 

Basil  parted  with  her  at  the  door.  He  was  a 
man  of  high  principle  himself,  and  that  scene 
in  the  smugglers'  den  and  his  wife's  prepara- 
tion for  trangression  were  revelations  for  which 
nothing  could  have  consoled  him  but  a  para- 
gon umbrella  for  five  dollars,  and  an  excellent 
business  suit  of  Scotch  goods  for  twenty. 

When  some  hours  later  he  sat  with  Isabel  on 
the  forward  promenade  of  the  steamboat  for 
Quebec,  and  summed  up  the  profits  of  their 
shopping,  they  were  both  in  the  kindliest  mood 
towards  the  poor  Canadians  who  had  built  the 
admirable  city  before  them. 

For  miles  the  water  front  of  Montreal  is 
superbly  faced  with  quays  and  locks  of  solid 
stone  masonry,  and  thus  she  is  clean  and  beau- 
tiful to  the  very  feet.  Stately  piles  of  architec- 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  279 

ture,  instead  of  the  foul  old  tumble-down  ware- 
houses that  dishonor  the  waterside  in  most 
cities,  rise  from  the  broad  wharves ;  behind 
these  spring  the  twin  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 
and  the  steeples  of  the  other  churches  above 
the  city  roofs. 

"  It 's  noble,  yes,  it 's  noble,  after  the  best 
that  Europe  can  show,"  said  Isabel,  with  enthu- 
siasm ;  "  and  what  a  pleasant  day  we  've  had 
here !  Does  n't  even  our  quarrel  show  couleur 
de  rose  in  this  light  ?  " 

"  One  side  of  it,"  answered  Basil  dreamily, 
"  but  all  the  rest  is  black." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  my  dear  ? " 

"Why,  the  Nelson  Monument,  with  the  sun- 
set on  it,  at  the  head  of  the  street  there." 

The  effect  was  so  fine  that  Isabel  could  not 
be  angry  with  him  for  failing  to  heed  what  she 
had  said,  and  she  mused  a  moment  with  him. 

"  It  seems  rather  far-fetched,"  she  said  pres- 
ently, "to  erect  a  monument  to  Nelson  in  Mon- 
treal, does  n't  it  ?  But  then,  it 's  a  very  absurd 
monument  when  you  're  near  it,"  she  added 
thoughtfully. 

Basil  did  not  answer  at  once,  for  gazing  on 
this  Nelson  column  in  Jacques  Cartier  Square, 
his  thoughts  wandered  away,  not  to  the  hero  of 
the  Nile,  but  to  the  doughty  old  Breton  navi- 
gator, the  first  white  man  who  ever  set  foot 


28o 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


upon  that  shore,  and  who  more  than  three 
hundred  years  ago  explored  the  St.  Lawrence 
as  far  as  Montreal,  and  in  the  splendid  autumn 
weather  climbed  to  the  top  of  her  green  height 
and  named  it.  The  scene  that  Jacques  Cartier 
then  beheld,  like  a  mirage  of  the  past  projected 
upon  the  present,  floated  before  him,  and  he 

saw  at  the  mountain's 
foot  the  Indian  city 
of  Hochelaga,  with  its 
vast  and  populous 
lodges  of  bark,  its  en- 
circling palisades,  and 
its  wide  outlying  fields 
of  yellow  maize.  He 
heard  with  Jacques 
Cartier's  sense  the 
blare  of  his  followers' 
trumpets  down  in  the 
open  square  of  the 

barbarous  city,  where  the  soldiers  of  many  an 
Old-World  fight,  "with  mustached  lip  and 
bearded  chin,  with  arquebuse  and  glittering 
halberd,  helmet,  and  cuirass,"  moved  among 
the  plumed  and  painted  savages  ;  then  he  lifted 
Jacques  Cartier's  eyes,  and  looked  out  upon  the 
magnificent  landscape.  "  East,  west,  and  north, 
the  mantling  forest  was  over  all,  and  the  broad 
blue  ribbon  of  the  great  river  glistened  amid 


The  Nelson  Monument 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  281 


a  realm  of  verdure.  Beyond,  to  the  bounds  of 
Mexico,  stretched  a  leafy  desert,  and  the  vast 
hive  of  industry,  the  mighty  battle-ground  of 
later  centuries,  lay  sunk  in  savage  torpor, 
wrapped  in  illimitable  woods." 

A  vaguer  picture  of  Champlain,  who,  seeking 
a  westward  route  to  China  and  the  East,  some 
three  quarters  of  a  century  later,  had  fixed  the 
first  trading-post  at  Montreal,  and  camped  upon 
the  spot  where  the  convent  of  the  Gray  Nuns 
now  stands,  appeared  before  him,  and  vanished 
with  all  its  fleets  of  fur-traders'  boats  and  hunt- 
ers' birch  canoes,  and  the  watch-fires  of  both ; 
and  then  in  the  sweet  light  of  the  spring  morn- 
ing, he  saw  Maisonneuve  leaping  ashore  upon 
the  green  meadows,  that  spread  all  gay  with 
early  flowers  where  Hochelaga  once  stood, 
and  with  the  black-robed  Jesuits,  the  high-born, 
delicately  nurtured,  and  devoted  nuns,  and  the 
steel-clad  soldiers  of  his  train,  kneeling  about 
the  altar  raised  there  in  the  wilderness,  and 
silent  amidst  the  silence  of  nature  at  the  lifted 
Host. 

He  painted  a  semblance  of  all  this  for  Isabel, 
using  the  colors  of  the  historian  who  has  made 
these  scenes  the  beautiful  inheritance  of  all 
dreamers,  and  sketched  the  battles,  the  mir- 
acles, the  sufferings,  and  the  penances  through 
which  the  pious  colony  was  preserved  and  pros- 


282  Their  Wedding  Journey 

pered,  till  they  both  grew  impatient  of  modern 
Montreal,  and  would  fain  have  had  the  ancient 
Villemarie  back  in  its  place. 

"Think  of  Maisonneuve,  dearest,  climbing 
in  midwinter  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  there, 
under  a  heavy  cross  set  with  the  bones  of 
saints,  and  planting  it  on  the  summit,  in  fulfill- 
ment of  a  vow  to  do  so  if  Villemarie  were  saved 
from  the  freshet ;  and  then  of  Madame  de  la 
Peltrie  romantically  receiving  the  sacrament 
there,  while  all  Villemarie  fell  down  adoring  ! 
Ah,  that  was  a  picturesque  people !  When 
did  ever  a  Boston  governor  climb  to  the  top  of 
Beacon  hill  in  fulfillment  of  a  vow"?  To  be 
sure,  we  may  yet  see  a  New  York  governor 
doing  something  of  the  kind  —  if  he  can  find 
a  hill.  But  this  ridiculous  column  to  Nelson, 
who  never  had  anything  to  do  with  Montreal," 
he  continued  ;  "  it  really  seems  to  me  the  perfect 
expression  of  snobbish  colonial  dependence  and 
sentimentality,  seeking  always  to  identify  itself 
with  the  mother  country,  and  ignoring  the  local 
past  and  its  heroic  figures.  A  column  to  Nel- 
son in  Jacques  Cartier  Square,  on  the  ground 
that  was  trodden  by  Champlain,  and  won  for 
its  present  masters  by  the  death  of  Wolfe  ! " 

The  boat  departed  on  her  trip  to  Quebec. 
During  supper  they  were  served  by  French 
waiters,  who,  without  apparent  English  of  their 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  283 


own,  miraculously  understood  that  of  the  pas- 
sengers, except  in  the  case  of  the  furious  gen- 
tleman who  wanted  English  breakfast  tea ;  to 
so  much  English  as  that  their  inspiration  did 
not  reach,  and  they  forced  him  to  compromise 
on  coffee.  It  was  a  French  boat,  owned  by  a 
French  company,  and  seemed  to  be  officered  by 
Frenchmen  throughout ;  certainly,  as  our  tour- 
ists in  the  joy  of  their  good  appetites  affirmed, 
the  cook  was  of  that  culinarily  delightful  na- 
tion. 

The  boat  was  almost  as  large  as  those  of  the 
Hudson,  but  it  was  not  so  lavishly  splendid, 
though  it  had  everything  that  could  minister  to 
the  comfort  and  self-respect  of  the  passengers. 
These  were  of  all  nations,  but  chiefly  Amer- 
icans, with  some  French  Canadians.  The 
former  gathered  on  the  forward  promenade, 
enjoying  what  little  of  the  landscape  the  grow- 
ing night  left  visible,  and  the  latter  made  soci- 
ety after  their  manner  in  the  saloon.  They 
were  plain-looking  men  and  women,  mostly, 
and  provincial,  it  was  evident,  to  their  inmost 
hearts ;  provincial  in  origin,  provincial  by 
inheritance,  by  all  their  circumstances,  social 
and  political.  Their  relation  with  France  was 
not  a  proud  one,  but  it  was  not  like  submersion 
by  the  slip-slop  of  English  colonial  loyalty ; 
yet  they  seem  to  be  troubled  by  no  memories 


284  Their  Wedding  Journey 

of  their  hundred  years'  dominion  of  the  land 
that  they  rescued  from  the  wilderness,  and  that 
was  wrested  from  them  by  war.  It  is  a 
strange  fate  for  any  people  thus  to  have  been 
cut  off  from  the  parent  country,  and  aban- 
doned to  whatever  destiny  their  conquerors 
chose  to  reserve  for  them  ;  and  if  each  of  the 
race  wore  the  sadness  and  strangeness  of  that 
fate  in  his  countenance  it  would  not  be  wonder- 
ful. Perhaps  it  is  wonderful  that  none  of  them 
shows  anything  of  the  kind.  In  their  desertion 
they  have  multiplied  and  prospered ;  they  may 
have  a  national  grief,  but  they  hide  it  well ; 
and  probably  they  have  none. 

Later,  one  of  them  appeared  to  Isabel  in  the 
person  of  the  pale,  slender  young  ecclesiastic 
who  had  shown  her  and  Basil  the  pictures  in 
the  country  church.  She  was  confessing  to 
the  priest,  and  she  was  not  at  all  surprised  to 
find  that  he  was  Basil  in  a  suit  of  mediaeval 
armor.  He  had  an  immense  cross  on  his 
shoulder. 

"To  get  his  cross  to  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain," thought  Isabel,  "we  must  have  two 
horses.  Basil,"  she  added,  aloud,  "we  must 
have  two  horses !" 

"Ten,  if  you  like,  my  dear,"  answered  his 
voice,  cheerfully,  "  though  I  think  we  'd  better 
ride  up  in  the  omnibus." 


The  Sentiment  of  Montreal  285 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  saw  him  smiling. 
"  We  're  in  sight  of  Quebec,"  he  said.  "Come 
out  as  soon  as  you  can,  —  come  out  into  the 
seventeenth  century." 


IX 

QUEBEC 

ISABEL  hurried  out  upon  the  forward  prom- 
enade, where  all  the  other  passengers  seemed  to 
be  assembled,  and  beheld  a  vast  bulk  of  gray 
and  purple  rock,  swelling  two  hundred  feet  up 
from  the  mists  of  the  river,  and  taking  the 
early  morning  light  warm  upon  its  face  and 
crown.  Black-hulked,  red-chimneyed  Liverpool 
steamers,  gay  river-craft,  and  ships  of  every  sail 
and  flag,  filled  the  stream  athwart  which  the 
ferries  sped  their  swift  traffic-laden  shuttles ;  a 
lower  town  clung  to  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and 
crept,  populous  and  picturesque,  up  its  sides ; 
from  the  massive  citadel  on  its  crest  flew  the 
red  banner  of  Saint  George,  and  along  its  brow 
swept  the  gray  wall  of  the  famous,  heroic,  beau- 
tiful city,  overtopped  by  many  a  gleaming  spire 
and  antique  roof. 

Slowly  out  of  our  work-day,  business-suited, 
modern  world  the  vessel  steamed  up  to  this 
city  of  an  olden  time  and  another  ideal,  —  to 
her  who  was  a  lady  from  the  first,  devout  and 
proud  and  strong,  and  who  still,  after  two  him- 


Quebec 


287 


dred  and  fifty 
years,  keeps  per- 
fect the  image 
and  memory  of 
the  feudal  past 
from  which  she 
sprung.  Upon 
her  height  she 
sits  unique  ;  and 
when  you  say 
Quebec,  having 
once  beheld  her, 
you  invoke  a 
sense  of  mediaeval 
strangeness  and 
of  beauty  which 
the  name  of  no 
other  city  could 
intensify.  AH  oid  street 

As  they  drew  near  the  steamboat  wharf  they 
saw,  swarming  over  a  broad  square,  a  market 
beside  which  the  Bonsecours  Market  would 
have  shown  as  common  as  the  Quincy,  and  up 
the  odd  wooden-sidewalked  street  stretched  an 
aisle  of  carriages  and  those  high  swung  ca- 
lashes, which  are  to  Quebec  what  the  gondolas 
are  to  Venice.  But  the  hand  of  destiny  was 
upon  our  tourists,  and  they  rode  up  town  in  an 
omnibus.  They  were  going  to  the  dear  old 


288  Their  Wedding  Journey 

Hotel    Musty    in Street,    wanting    which 

Quebec  is  not  to  be  thought  of  without  a  pang. 
It  is  now  closed,  and  Prescott  Gate,  through 
which  they  drove  into  the  Upper  Town,  has 
been  demolished  since  the  summer  of  last  year. 
Swiftly  whirled  along  the  steep  winding  road, 
by  those  Quebec  horses  which  expect  to  gallop 
uphill,  whatever  they  do  going  down,  they 
turned  a  corner  of  the  towering  weed-grown 
rock,  and  shot  in  under  the  low  arch  of  the  gate, 
pierced  with  smaller  doorways  for  the  foot  pas- 
sengers. The  gloomy  masonry  dripped  with 
damp,  the  doors  were  thickly  studded  with 
heavy  iron  spikes ;  old  cannon,  thrust  endwise 
into  the  ground  at  the  sides  of  the  gate,  pro- 
tected it  against  passing  wheels.  Why  did  not 
some  semi-forbidding  commissary  of  police, 
struggling  hard  to  overcome  his  native  polite- 
ness, appear  and  demand  their  passports  ? 
The  illusion  was  otherwise  perfect,  and  it 
needed  but  this  touch.  How  often  in  the 
adored  Old  World,  which  we  so  love  and  disap- 
prove, had  they  driven  in  through  such  gates  at 
that  morning  hour !  On  what  perverse  pretext, 
then,  was  it  not  some  ancient  town  of  Nor- 
mandy ? 

"  Put  a  few  enterprising  Americans  in  here, 
and  they  'd  soon  rattle  this  old  wall  down  and 
let  in  a  little  fresh  air ! "  said  a  patriotic  voice 


Quebec 


289 


at  Isabel's  elbow,  and  continued  to  find  fault 
with  the  narrow  irregular  streets,  the  huddling 
gables,  the  quaint  roofs,  through  which  and 
under  which  they  drove  on  to  the  hotel. 

As  they  dashed  into  a  broad  open  square, 
"  Here  is  the  French  Cathedral ;  there  is  the 
Upper  Town  Market ;  yonder  are  the  Jesuit 


The  Lower  Town 

Barracks ! "  cried  Basil ;  and  they  had  a  pass- 
ing glimpse  of  gray  stone  towers  at  one  side  of 
the  square,  and  a  low,  massive  yellow  building 
at  the  other,  and,  between  the  two,  long  ranks 
of  carts,  and  fruit  and  vegetable  stands,  pro- 
tected by  canvas  awnings  and  broad  umbrellas. 
Then  they  dashed  round  the  corner  of  a  street, 
and  drew  up  before  the  hotel  door.  The  low 
ceilings,  the  thick  walls,  the  clumsy  woodwork, 


290  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  wandering  corridors,  gave  the  hotel  all  the 
desired  character  of  age,  and  its  slovenly  state 
bestowed  an  additional  charm.  In  another  place 
they  might  have  demanded  neatness,  but  in 
Quebec  they  would  almost  have  resented  it. 
By  a  chance  they  had  the  best  room  in  the 
house,  but  they  held  it  only  till  certain  people 
who  had  engaged  it  by  telegraph  should  arrive 
in  the  hourly  expected  steamer  from  Liverpool ; 
and,  moreover,  the  best  room  at  Hotel  Musty 
was  consolingly  bad.  The  house  was  very  full, 
and  the  Ellisons  (who  had  come  on  with  them 
from  Montreal)  were  bestowed  in  less  state,  only 
on  like  conditions. 

The  travelers  all  met  at  breakfast,  which  was 
admirably  cooked,  and  well  served,  with  the 
attendance  of  those  swarms  of  flies  which 
infest  Quebec,  and  especially  infested  the  old 
Musty  House,  in  summer.  It  had,  of  course, 
the  attraction  of  broiled  salmon,  upon  which 
the  traveler  breakfasts  every  day  as  long  as  he 
remains  in  Lower  Canada;  and  it  represented 
the  abundance  of  wild  berries  in  the  Quebec 
market ;  and  it  was  otherwise  a  breakfast  worthy 
of  the  appetites  that  honored  it. 

There  were  not  many  other  Americans  be- 
sides themselves  at  this  hotel,  which  seemed, 
indeed,  to  be  kept  open  to  oblige  such  travelers 
as  had  been  there  before,  and  could  not  per- 


Quebec  291 


suade  themselves  to  try  the  new  Hotel  St. 
Louis,  whither  the  vastly  greater  number  re- 
sorted. Most  of  the  faces  our  tourists  saw  were 
English  or  English-Canadian,  and  the  young 
people  from  Omaha,  who  had  got  here  by  some 
chance,  were  scarcely  in  harmony  with  the 
place.  They  appeared  to  be  a  bridal  party,  but 
which  of  the  two  sisters,  in  buff  linen  clad  from 
head  to  foot,  was  the  bride,  never  became  known. 
Both  were  equally  free  with  the  husband,  and 
he  was  impartially  fond  of  both  :  it  was  quite  a 
family  affair. 

For  a  moment  Isabel  harbored  the  desire  to 
see  the  city  in  company  with  Miss  Ellison  ; 
but  it  was  only  a  passing  weakness.  She 
remembered  directly  the  coolness  between 
friends  which  she  had  seen  caused  by  objects 
of  interest  in  Europe,  and  she  wisely  deferred  a 
more  intimate  acquaintance  till  it  could  have 
a  purely  social  basis.  After  all,  nothing  is  so 
tiresome  as  continual  exchange  of  sympathy,  or 
so  apt  to  end  in  mutual  dislike,  —  except  grati- 
tude. So  the  ladies  parted  friends  till  dinner, 
and  drove  off  in  separate  carriages. 

As  in  other  show  cities,  there  is  a  routine  at 
Quebec  for  travelers  who  come  on  Saturday 
and  go  on  Monday,  and  few  depart  from  it. 
Our  friends  necessarily,  therefore,  drove  first 
to  the  citadel.  It  was  raining  one  of  those  cold 


292  Their  Wedding  Journey 

rains  by  which  the  scarce-banished  winter 
reminds  the  Canadian  fields  of  his  nearness 
even  in  midsummer,  though  between  the  bitter 
showers  the  air  was  sultry  and  close  ;  and  it 
was  just  the  light  in  which  to  see  the  grim 
strength  of  the  fortress  next  strongest  to  Gib- 
raltar in  the  world.  They  passed  a  heavy  iron 
gateway,  and  up  through  a  winding  lane  of 
masonry  to  the  gate  of  the  citadel,  where  they 
were  delivered  into  the  care  of  Private  Joseph 
Drakes,  who  was  to  show  them  such  parts  of 
the  place  as  are  open  to  curiosity.  But  a 
citadel  which  has  never  stood  a  siege,  or  been 
threatened  by  any  danger  more  serious  than 
Fenianism,  soon  becomes,  however  strong,  but 
a  dull  piece  of  masonry  to  the  civilian  ;  and  our 
tourists  more  rejoiced  in  the  crumbling  frag- 
ment of  the  old  French  wall  which  the  English 
destroyed  than  in  all  they  had  built ;  and  they 
valued  the  latter  work  chiefly  for  the  glorious 
prospects  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  its  mighty 
valleys  which  it  commanded.  Advanced  into 
the  centre  of  an  amphitheatre  inconceivably 
vast,  that  enormous  beak  of  rock  overlooks  the 
narrow  angle  of  the  river,  and  then,  in  every 
direction,  immeasurable  stretches  of  gardened 
vale  and  wooded  upland,  till  all  melts  into  the 
purple  of  the  encircling  mountains.  Far  and 
near  are  lovely  white  villages  nestling  under 


Quebec  293 

elms,  in  the  heart  of  fields  and  meadows ;  and 
everywhere  the  long,  narrow,  accurately  divided 
farms  stretch  downward  to  the  river-shores. 
The  best  roads  on  the  continent  make  this 
beauty  and  richness  accessible ;  each  little  vil- 
lage boasts  some  natural  wonder  in  stream,  or 
lake,  or  cataract :  and  this  landscape,  magnifi- 
cent beyond  any  in  eastern  America,  is  histori- 
cal and  interesting  beyond  all  others.  Hither 
came  Jacques  Cartier  three  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago,  and  wintered  on  the  low  point  there 
by  the  St.  Charles ;  here,  nearly  a  century 
after,  but  still  fourteen  years  before  the  landing 
at  Plymouth,  Champlain  founded  the  missionary 
city  of  Quebec ;  round  this  rocky  beak  came 
sailing  the  half-piratical  armament  of  the  Cal- 
vinist  Kirks  in  1629,  and  seized  Quebec  in  the 
interest  of  the  English,  holding  it  three  years ; 
in  the  Lower  Town,  yonder,  first  landed  the 
coldly  welcomed  Jesuits,  who  came  with  the 
returning  French  and  made  Quebec  forever 
eloquent  of  their  zeal,  their  guile,  their  hero- 
ism ;  at  the  foot  of  this  rock  lay  the  fleet  of 
Sir  William  Phips,  governor  of  Massachusetts, 
and  vainly  assailed  it  in  1698  ;  in  1759  came 
Wolfe  and  embattled  all  the  region,  on  river 
and  land,  till  at  last  the  bravely  defended  city 
fell  into  his  dying  hand  on  the  Plains  of  Abra- 
ham ;  here  Montgomery  laid  down  his  life  at 


294  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  head  of  the  boldest  and  most  hopeless  effort 
of  our  War  of  Independence. 

Private  Joseph  Drakes,  with  the  generosity 
of  an  enemy  expecting  drink-money,  pointed 
out  the  sign-board  on  the  face  of  the  crag  com- 
memorating Montgomery's  death ;  and  then 
showed  them  the  officers'  quarters  and  those  of 
the  common  soldiers,  not  far  from  which  was  a 
line  of  hang-dog  fellows  drawn  up  to  receive 
sentence  for  divers  small  misdemeanors,  from 
an  officer  whose  blond  whiskers  drooped  Dun- 
drearily  from  his  fresh  English  cheeks.  There 
was  that  immense  difference  between  him  and 
the  men  in  physical  grandeur  and  beauty  which 
is  so  notable  in  the  aristocratically  ordered 
military  services  of  Europe,  and  which  makes 
the  rank  seem  of  another  race  from  the  file. 
Private  Drakes  saluted  his  superior,  and  visibly 
deteriorated  in  his  presence,  though  his  breast 
was  covered  with  medals,  and  he  had  fought 
England's  battles  in  every  part  of  the  world. 
It  was  a  gross  injustice,  the  triumph  of  a  thou- 
sand years  of  wrong ;  and  it  was  touching  to 
have  Private  Drakes  say  that  he  expected  in 
three  months  to  begin  life  for  himself,  after 
twenty  years'  service  of  the  Queen  ;  and  did 
they  think  he  could  get  anything  to  do  in  the 
States  ?  He  scarcely  knew  what  he  was  fit  for, 
but  he  thought  —  to  so  little  in  him  came  the 


Quebec  295 

victories  he  had  helped  to  win  in  the  Crimea, 
in  China,  and  in  India  —  that  he  could  take 
care  of  a  gentleman's  horse  and  work  about  his 
place.  He  looked  inquiringly  at  Basil,  as  if  he 
might  be  a  gentleman  with  a  horse  to  be  taken 
care  of  and  a  place  to  be  worked  about,  and 
made  him  regret  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  sub- 
stance enough  to  provide  for  Private  Drakes 
and  Mrs.  Drakes  and  the  brood  of  Ducklings, 
who  had  been  shown  to  him  stowed  away  in 
one  of  those  cavernous  rooms  in  the  earthworks 
where  the  married  soldiers  have  their  quarters. 
His  regret  enriched  the  reward  of  Private 
Drakes'  service,  —  which  perhaps  answered 
one  of  Private  Drakes'  purposes,  if  not  his  chief 
aim.  He  promised  to  come  to  the  States  upon 
the  pressing  advice  of  Isabel,  who,  speaking 
from  her  own  large  experience,  declared  that 
everybody  got  on  there;  and  he  bade  our 
friends  an  affectionate  farewell  as  they  drove 
away  to  the  Plains  of  Abraham. 

The  fashionable  suburban  cottages  and  places 
of  Quebec  are  on  the  St.  Louis  Road  leading 
northward  to  the  old  battle-ground  and  beyond 
it ;  but  these  face  chiefly  towards  the  rivers  St. 
Lawrence  and  St.  Charles,  and  lofty  hedges  and 
shrubbery  hide  them  in  an  English  seclusion 
from  the  highway ;  so  that  the  visitor  may  un- 
interruptedly meditate  whatever  emotion  he 


296 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


will  for  the  scene  of  Wolfe's  death  as  he  rides 
along.  His  loftiest  emotion  will  want  the  noble 
height  of  that  heroic  soul,  who  must  always 
stand  forth  in  history  a  figure  of  beautiful  and 
singular  distinction,  admirable  alike  for  the 
sensibility  and  daring,  the  poetic  pensiveness, 

and  the  martial  ardor 
that  mingled  in  him 
and  taxed  his  feeble 
frame  with  tasks 
greater  than  it  could 
bear.  The  whole 
story  of  the  capture 
of  Quebec  is  full  of 
romantic  splendor 
and  pathos.  Her  fall 
was  a  triumph  for  all 
the  English  -  speak- 
ing race,  and  to  us 
Americans,  long  scourged  by  the  cruel  Indian 
wars  plotted  within  her  walls  or  sustained  by 
her  strength,  such  a  blessing  as  was  hailed  with 
ringing  bells  and  blazing  bonfires  throughout 
the  Colonies  ;  yet  now  we  cannot  think  with- 
out pity  of  the  hopes  extinguished  and  the 
labors  brought  to  naught  in  her  overthrow. 
That  strange  colony  of  priests  and  soldiers, 
of  martyrs  and  heroes,  of  which  she  was  the 
capital,  willing  to  perish  for  an  allegiance  to 


The  Wolfe  Monument 


Quebec  297 

which  the  mother  country  was  indifferent,  and 
fighting  against  the  armies  with  which  Eng- 
land was  prepared  to  outnumber  the  whole 
Canadian  population,  is  a  magnificent  spec- 
tacle ;  and  Montcalm  laying  down  his  life  to 
lose  Quebec  is  not  less  affecting  than  Wolfe 
dying  to  win  her.  The  heart  opens  towards  the 
soldier  who  recited,  on  the  eve  of  his  costly  vic- 
tory, the  "Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard," 
which  he  would  "  rather  have  written  than  beat 
the  French  to-morrow ; "  but  it  aches  for  the 
defeated  general,  who,  hurt  to  death,  answered, 
when  told  how  brief  his  time  was,  "  So  much 
the  better ;  then  I  shall  not  live  to  see  the  sur- 
render of  Quebec." 

In  this  city  for  which  they  perished  their 
fame  has  never  been  divided.  The  English 
have  shown  themselves  very  generous  victors ; 
perhaps  nothing  could  be  alleged  against  them, 
but  that  they  were  victors.  A  shaft  common  to 
Wolfe  and  Montcalm  celebrates  them  both  in 
the  Governor's  Garden ;  and  in  the  Chapel  of 
the  Ursuline  Convent  a  tablet  is  placed,  where 
Montcalm  died,  by  the  same  conquerors  who 
raised  to  Wolfe's  memory  the  column  on  the 
battlefield. 

A  dismal  prison  covers  the  ground  where  the 
hero  fell,  and  the  monument  stands  on  the  spot 
where  Wolfe  breathed  his  last,  on  ground  lower 


298  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 

than  the  rest  of  the  field  ;  the  friendly  hollow 
'that  sheltered  him  from  the  fire  of  the  French 
dwarfs  his  monument ;  yet  it  is  sufficient,  and 
the  simple  inscription,  "  Here  died  Wolfe  victo- 
rious," gives  it  a  dignity  which  many  cubits  of 
added  stature  could  not  bestow.  Another  of 
those  bitter  showers,  which  had  interspersed 
the  morning's  sunshine,  drove  suddenly  across 
the  open  plain,  and  our  tourists  comfortably 
sentimentalized  the  scene  behind  the  close- 
drawn  curtains  of  their  carriage.  Here  a  whole 
empire  had  been  lost  and  won,  Basil  reminded 
Isabel ;  and  she  said,  "  Only  think  of  it ! "  and 
looked  to  a  wandering  fold  of  her  skirt,  upon 
which  the  rain  beat  through  a  rent  of  the  cur- 
tain. 

Do  I  pitch  the  pipe  too  low  ?  We  poor  hon- 
est men  are  at  a  sad  disadvantage  ;  and  now 
and  then  I  am  minded  to  give  a  loose  to  fancy, 
and  attribute  something  really  grand  and  fine 
to  my  people,  in  order  to  make  them  worthier 
the  reade'r's  respected  acquaintance.  But  again, 
I  forbid  myself  in  a  higher  interest ;  and  I  am 
afraid  that  even  if  I  were  less  virtuous,  I  could 
not  exalt  their  mood  upon  a  battlefield ;  for  of 
all  things  of  the  past  a  battle  is  the  least  con- 
ceivable. I  have  heard  men  who  fought  in 
many  battles  say  that  the  recollection  was  like 
a  dream  to  them  ;  and  what  can  the  merely  civil- 


Quebec  299 

ian  imagination  do  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham, 
with  the  fact  that  there,  more  than  a  century 
ago,  certain  thousands  of  Frenchmen  marched 
out,  on  a  bright  September  morning,  to  kill  and 
maim  as  many  Englishmen  ?  This  ground,  so 
green  and  soft  with  grass  beneath  the  feet,  was 
it  once  torn  with  shot  and  soaked  with  the  blood 
of  men  ?  Did  they  lie  here  in  ranks  and  heaps, 
the  miserable  slain,  for  whom  tender  hearts 
away  yonder  over  the  sea  were  to  ache  and 
break  ?  Did  the  wretches  that  fell  wounded 
stretch  themselves  here,  and  writhe  beneath 
the  feet  of  friend  and  foe,  or  crawl  away  for 
shelter  into  little  hollows,  and  behind  bushes 
and  fallen  trees !  Did  he,  whose  soul  was  so 
full  of  noble  and  sublime  impulses,  die  here, 
shot  through  like  some  ravening  beast  ?  The 
loathsome  carnage,  the  shrieks,  the  hellish  din 
of  arms,  the  cries  of  victory,  —  I  vainly  strive 
to  conjure  up  some  image  of  it  all  now;  and 
God  be  thanked,  horrible  spectre !  that,  fill  the 
world  with  sorrow  as  thou  wilt,  thou  still  re- 
mainest  incredible  in  its  moments  of  sanity  and 
peace.  Least  credible  art  thou  on  the  old  bat- 
tlefields, where  the  mother  of  the  race  denies 
thee  with  breeze  and  sun  and  leaf  and  bird,  and 
every  blade  of  grass  !  The  red  stain  in  Basil's 
thought  yielded  to  the  rain  sweeping  across  the 
pasture-land  from  which  it  had  long  since  faded, 


300  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  the  words  on  the  monument,  "  Here  died 
Wolfe  victorious,"  did  not  proclaim  his  bloody 
triumph  over  the  French,  but  his  self-conquest, 
his  victory  over  fear  and  pain  and  love  of  life. 
Alas  !  when  shall  the  poor,  blind,  stupid  world 
honor  those  who  renounce  self  in  the  joy  of 
their  kind,  equally  with  those  who  devote  them- 
selves through  the  anguish  and  loss  of  thou- 
sands ?  So  old  a  world,  and  groping  still ! 

The  tourists  were  better  fitted  for  the  next 
occasion  of  sentiment,  which  was  at  the  Hotel 
Dieu,  whither  they  went  after  returning  from 
the  battlefield.  It  took  all  the  mal-address  of 
which  travelers  are  masters  to  secure  admit- 
tance, and  it  was  not  till  they  had  rung  various 
wrong  bells,  and  misunderstood  many  soft  nun- 
voices  speaking  French  through  grated  doors, 
and  set  divers  sympathetic  spectators  doing  in- 
effectual services,  that  they  at  last  found  the 
proper  entrance,  and  were  answered  in  English 
that  the  porter  would  ask  if  they  might  see  the 
chapel.  They  hoped  to  find  there  the  skull  of 
Brebeuf,  one  of  those  Jesuit  martyrs  who  per- 
ished long  ago  for  the  conversion  of  a  race  that 
has  perished,  and  whose  relics  they  had  come, 
fresh  from  their  reading  of  Parkman,  with  some 
vague  and  patronizing  intention  to  revere.  An 
elderly  sister  with  a  pale,  kind  face  led  them 
through  a  ward  of  the  hospital  into  the  chapel, 


Quebec  301 

which  they  found  in  the  expected  taste,  and  ex- 
quisitely neat  and  cool,  but  lacking  the  martyr's 
skull.  They  asked  if  it  were  not  to  be  seen. 
"  Ah,  yes,  poor  Pere  Brebeuf !  "  sighed  the  gen- 
tle sister,  with  the  tone  and  manner  of  having 
lost  him  yesterday  ;  "  we  had  it  down  only  last 
week,  showing  it  to  some  Jesuit  fathers  ;  but 
it's  in  the  convent  now,  and  isn't  to  be  seen." 
And  there  mingled  apparently  in  her  regret  for 
Pere  Brebeuf  a  confusing  sense  of  his  actual 
state  as  a  portable  piece  of  furniture.  She 
would  not  let  them  praise  the  chapel.  It  was 
very  clean,  yes,  but  there  was  nothing  to  see  in 
it.  She  deprecated  their  compliments  with 
many  shrugs,  but  she  was  pleased ;  for  when 
we  renounce  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this 
world,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  find  them  in  some 
other  —  if  we  are  women.  She,  good  and  pure 
soul,  whose  whole  life  was  given  to  self-denying 
toil,  'had  yet  something  angelically  coquettish 
in  her  manner,  a  spiritual-worldliness  which  was 
the  clarified  likeness  of  this-worldliness.  Oh, 
had  they  seen  the  Hotel  Dieu  at  Montreal  ? 
Then  (with  a  vivacious  wave  of  the  hands)  they 
would  not  care  to  look  at  this,  which  by  com- 
parison was  nothing.  Yet  she  invited  them  to 
go  through  the  wards  if  they  would,  and  was 
clearly  proud  to  have  them  see  the  wonderful 
cleanness  and  comfort  of  the  place.  There 


302  Their  Wedding  Journey 

were  not  many  patients,  but  here  and  there  a 
wan  or  fevered  face  looked  at  them  from  its  pil- 
low, or  a  weak  form  drooped  beside  a  bed,  or  a 
group  of  convalescents  softly  talked  together. 
They  came  presently  to  the  last  hall,  at  the  end 
of  which  sat  another  nun,  beside  a  window  that 
gave  a  view  of  the  busy  port,  and  beyond  it  the 
landscape  of  village-lit  plain  and  forest-darkened 
height.  On  a  table  at  her  elbow  stood  a  rose- 
tree,  on  which  hung  only  two  pale  tea-roses,  so 
fair,  so  perfect,  that  Isabel  cried  out  in  wonder 
and  praise.  Ere  she  could  prevent  it,  the  nun, 
to  whom  there  had  been  some  sort  of  presenta- 
tion, gathered  one  of  the  roses,  and  with  a  shy 
grace  offered  it  to  Isabel,  who  shrank  back  a 
little  as  from  too  costly  a  gift.  "Take  it,"  said 
the  first  nun,  with  her  pretty  French  accent ; 
while  the  other,  who  spoke  no  English  at  all, 
beamed  a  placid  smile  ;  and  Isabel  took  it.  The 
flower,  lying  light  in  her  palm,  exhaled  a  delicate 
odor,  and  a  thrill  of  exquisite  compassion  for  it 
trembled  through  her  heart,  as  if  it  had  been 
the  white,  cloistered  life  of  the  silent  nun  :  with 
its  pallid  loveliness,  it  was  as  a  flower  that  had 
taken  the  veil.  It  could  never  have  uttered  the 
burning  passion  of  a  lover  for  his  mistress  ;  the 
nightingale  could  have  found  no  thorn  on  it  to 
press  his  aching  poet's  heart  against ;  but  sick 
and  weary  eyes  had  dwelt  gratefully  upon  it ;  at 


Quebec 


303 


Giving  the  Rose 

most  it  might  have  expressed,  like  a  prayer,  the 
nun's  stainless  love  of  some  favorite  saint  in 
paradise.  Cold,  and  pale,  and  sweet, — was  it 
indeed  only  a  flower,  this  cloistered  rose  of  the 
Hdtel  Dieu  ? 

"Breathe  it,"  said  the  gentle  Gray  Sister; 
"  sometimes  the  air  of  the  hospital  offends. 
Not  us,  no ;  we  are  used ;  but  you  come  from 


304  Their  Wedding  Journey 

the  outside."  And  she  gave  her  rose  for  this 
humble  use  as  lovingly  as  she  devoted  herself 
to  her  lowly  cares. 

"  It  is  very  little  to  see,"  she  said  at  the 
end ;  "  but  if  you  are  pleased,  I  am  very  glad. 
Good-by,  good-by  !  "  She  stood  with  her  arms 
folded,  and  watched  them  out  of  sight  with  her 
kind,  coquettish  little  smile,  and  then  the  mute, 
blank  life  of  the  nun  resumed  her. 

From  Hotel  Dieu  to  Hotel  Musty  it  was  but 
a  step ;  both  were  in  the  same  street ;  but  our 
friends  fancied  themselves  to  have  come  an 
immense  distance  when  they  sat  down  at  an 
early  dinner,  amidst  the  clash  of  crockery  and 
cutlery  and  looked  round  upon  all  the  profane 
traveling  world  assembled.  Their  regard  pres- 
ently fixed  upon  one  company  which  monopo- 
lized a  whole  table,  and  were  defined  from  the 
other  diners  by  peculiarities  as  marked  as 
those  of  the  Soeurs  Crises  themselves.  There 
were  only  two  men  among  some  eight  or  ten 
women  ;  one  of  the  former  had  a  bad  amiable 
face,  with  eyes  full  of  merry  deviltry  ;  the  other, 
clean-shaven,  and  dark,  was  demure  and  silent 
as  a  priest.  The  ladies  were .  of  various  types, 
but  of  one  effect,  with  large  rolling  eyes,  and 
faces  that  somehow  regarded  the  beholder  as 
from  a  distance,  and  with  an  impartial  feeling 
for  him  as  for  an  element  of  publicity.  One 


Quebec 


3°5 


of  them,  who  caressed  a  lapdog  with  one  hand 
while  she  served  herself  with  the  other,  was,  as 
she  seemed  to  believe,  a  blond  ;  she  had  pale 
blue  eyes,  and  her  hair  was  cut  in  front  so  as 
to  cover  her  forehead  with  a  straggling  sandy- 
colored  fringe.  She  had  an  English  look,  and 


The  Lively  Company 

three  or  four  others,  with  dark  complexion  and 
black  unsteady  eyes,  and  various  abandon  of 
back  hair,  looked  like  Cockney  houris  of  Jewish 
blood  ;  while  two  of  the  lovely  company  were 
clearly  of  our  own  nation,  as  was  the  young 
man  with  the  reckless  laughing  face.  The 
ladies  were  dressed  and  jeweled  with  a  kind  of 
broad  effectiveness,  which  was  to  the  ordinary 


306  Their  Wedding  Journey 


style  of  society  what  scene-painting  is  to  paint 
ing,  and  might  have  borne  close  inspection  no 
better.  They  seemed  the  best-humored  people 
in  the  world,  and  on  the  kindliest  terms  with 
each  other.  The  waiters  shared  their  pleasant 
mood,  and  served  them  affectionately,  and  were 
now  and  then  invited  to  join  in  the  gay  talk 
which  babbled  on  over  dislocated  aspirates,  and 
filled  the  air  with  a  sentiment  of  vagabond 
enjoyment,  of  the  romantic  freedom  of  violated 
convention,  of  something  Gil  Bias-like,  almost 
picaresque. 

If  they  had  needed  explanation  it  would  have 
been  given  by  the  announcement  in  the  office 
of  the  hotel  that  a  troupe  of  British  blondes 
was  then  appearing  in  Quebec  for  one  week 
only. 

After  dinner  they  took  possession  of  the  par- 
lor, and  while  one  strummed  fitfully  upon  the 
ailing  hotel  piano,  the  rest  talked,  and  talked 
shop,  of  course,  as  all  of  us  do  when  several  of 
a  trade  are  got  together.  \ 

"Wat,"  said  the  eldest  of  the  dark-faced, 
black-haired  British  blondes  of  Jewish  race,  — 
"  w'at  are  we  going  to  give  at  Montrehal  ?  " 

"  We  're  going  to  give  '  Pygmalion/  at  Mon- 
trehal," answered  the  British  blonde  of  Amer- 
ican birth,  good-humoredly  burlesquing  the 
erring  //  of  her  sister. 


Quebec  307 

"But  we  cahn't,  you  know,"  said  the  lady 
with  the  fringed  forehead  ;  "  Hagnes  is  gone 
on  to  New  York,  and  there  's  nobody  to  do 
Wenus." 

"Yes,  you  know,"  demanded  the  first  speaker 
aoo  's  to  do  Wenus  ?  " 

"  Bella  's  to  do  Wenus,"  said  a  third. 

There  was  one  outcry  at  this,  and  "'Ow  ever 
would  she  get  herself  up  for  Wenus  ? "  and 
"W'at  a  guy  she'll  look!"  and  "Nonsense! 
Bella  's  too  'eavy  for  Wenus  ! "  came  from  dif- 
ferent lively  critics  ;  and  the  debate  threatened 
to  become  too  intimate  for  the  public  ear,  when 
one  of  their  gentlemen  came  in  and  said, 
"  Charley  don't  seem  so  well  this  afternoon." 
On  this  the  chorus  changed  its  note,  and  at  the 
proposal,  "  Poor  Charley,  let  's  go  and  cheer 
'im  hup  a  bit,"  the  whole  good-tempered  com- 
pany trooped  out  of  the  parlor  together. 

Our  tourists  meant  to  give  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon  to  that  sort  of  aimless  wandering  to 
and  fro  about  the  streets  which  seizes  a  foreign 
city  unawares,  and  best  develops  its  charm  of 
strangeness.  So  they  went  out  and  took  their 
fill  of  Quebec  with  appetites  keen  through  long 
fasting  from  the  quaint  and  old,  and  only  sharp- 
ened by  Montreal,  and  impartially  rejoiced  in 
the  crooked  up-and-down  hill  streets  ;  the  thor- 
oughly French  domestic  architecture  of  a  place 


308  Their  Wedding  Journey 

that  thus  denied  having  been  English  for  a  hun- 
dred years ;  the  porte-cocheres  beside  every 
house ;  the  French  names  upon  the  doors,  and 
the  oddity  of  the  bell-pulls ;  the  rough-paved, 
rattling  streets ;  the  shining  roofs  of  tin,  and 
the  universal  dormer-windows  ;  the  littleness  of 
the  private  houses,  and  the  greatness  of  the 
high-walled  and  garden-girdled  convents ;  the 
breadths  of  weather-stained  city  wall,  and  the 
shaggy  cliff  beneath  ;  the  batteries,  with  their 
guns  peacefully  staring  through  loop-holes  of 
masonry,  and  the  red-coated  sergeants  flirting 
with  nursery-maids  upon  the  carriages,  while 
the  children  tumbled  about  over  the  pyramids 
of  shot  and  shell ;  the  sloping  market-place 
before  the  cathedral,  where  yet  some  remnant 
of  the  morning's  traffic  lingered  under  canvas 
canopies,  and  where  Isabel  bought  a  bouquet  of 
marigolds  and  asters  of  an  old  woman,  peasant 
enough  to  have  sold  it  in  any  market-place  of 
Europe ;  the  small,  dark  shops  beyond  the 
quarter  invaded  by  English  retail  trade ;  the 
movement  of  all  the  strange  figures  of  cleric 
and  lay  and  military  life  ;  the  sound  of  a  foreign 
speech  prevailing  over  the  English ;  the  en- 
counter of  other  tourists,  the  passage  back  and 
forth  through  the  different  city  gates ;  the 
public  wooden  stairways,  dropping  flight  after 
flight  from  the  Upper  to  the  Lower  Town ;  the 


Quebec  309 


bustle  of  the  port,  with  its  commerce  and  ship- 
ping and  seafaring  life  huddled  close  in  under 
the  hill ;  the  many  desolate  streets  of  the  Lower 
Town,  as  black  and  ruinous  as  the  last  great 
fire  left  them  ;  and  the  marshy  meadows 
beyond,  memorable  of  Recollets  and  Jesuits,  of 
Cartier  and  Montcalm. 

They  went  to  the  chapel  of  the  Seminary  at 
Laval  University,  and  admired  the  Le  Brim, 
and  the  other  paintings  of  less  merit,  but  equal 
interest  through  their  suggestion  of  a  whole 
dim,  religious  world  of  paintings ;  and  then 
they  spent  half  an  hour  in  the  cathedral,  not  so 
much  in  looking  at  the  Crucifixion  by  Vandyck 
which  is  there,  as  in  reveling  amid  the  familiar 
rococo  splendors  of  the  temple.  Every  swag- 
gering statue  of  a  saint,  every  rope-dancing 
angel,  every  cherub  of  those  that  on  the  carven 
and  gilded  clouds  above  the  high  altar  float  — 

"  Like  little  wanton  boys  that  swim  on  bladders,"  — 

was  precious  to  them  ;  the  sacristan  dusting  the 
sacred  properties  with  a  feather  brush,  and  giv- 
ing each  shrine  a  business-like  nod  as  he  passed, 
was  as  a  long-lost  brother ;  they  had  hearts  of 
aggressive  tenderness  for  the  young  girls  and 
old  women  who  stepped  in  for  a  half-hour's 
devotion,  and  for  the  men  with  bourgeois  or 
peasant  faces,  who  stole  a  moment  from  affairs 


3io 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


and  crops,  and  gave  it  to  the  saints.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  place  that  need  remind 
them  of  America,  and  its  taste  was  exactly  that 
of  a  thousand  other  churches  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  They  could  easily  have  believed 
themselves  in  the  farthest  Catholic  South  but 
for  the  two  great  porcelain  stoves  that  stood  on 
either  side  of  the  nave  near  the  entrance,  and 
that  too  vividly  reminded  them  of  the  possibil- 
ity of  cold. 

In  fact,  Que- 
bec is  a  little 
painful  in  this 
and  other  con- 
fusions of  the 
South  and  North, 
and  one  never 
quite  reconciles 
himself  to  them. 
The  Frenchmen, 
who  expected  to 
find  there  the 
.  climate  of  their 
native  land,  and 
ripen  her  wines 
in  as  kindly  a 
sun,  have  perpetuated  the  image  of  home  in  so 
many  things,  that  it  goes  to  the  heart  with  a 
painful  emotion  to  find  the  sad,  oblique  light  of 


A  Quaint  Street 


Quebec 


the  North  upon  them.  As  you  ponder  some 
characteristic  aspect  of  Quebec,  —  a  bit  of  street 
with  heavy  stone  houses,  opening  upon  a  stretch 
of  the  city  wall,  with  a  Lombardy  poplar  rising 
slim  against  it,  —  you 
say,  to  your  satisfied 
soul,  "  Yes,  it  is  the 
real  thing  !  "  and  then 
all  at  once  a  sense 
of  that  Northern  sky 
strikes  in  upon  you, 
and  makes  the  reality 
a  mere  picture.  The 
sky  is  blue,  the  sun  is 
often  fiercely  hot ;  you 
could  not  perhaps 
prove  that  the  pa- 
thetic radiance  is  not  an  efflux  of  your  own  con- 
sciousness that  summer  is  but  hanging  over  the 
land,  briefly  poising  on  wings  which  flit  at  the 
first  dash  of  rain,  and  will  soon  vanish  in  long 
retreat  before  the  snow.  But  somehow,  from 
without  or  from  within,  that  light  of  the  North 
is  there. 

It  lay  saddest,  our  travelers  thought,  upon 
the  little  circular  garden  near  Durham  Terrace, 
where  every  brightness  of  fall  flowers  abounded 
—  marigold,  cockscomb,  snapdragon,  dahlia, 
hollyhock,  and  sunflower.  It  was  a  substantial 


Near  Durham  Terrace 


312  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  hardy  efflorescence,  and  they  fancied  that 
fainter-hearted  plants  would  have  pined  away 
in  that  garden,  where  the  little  fountain,  leap- 
ing up  into  the  joyless  light,  fell  back  again 
with  a  musical  shiver.  The  consciousness  of 
this  latent  cold  of  winter,  only  held  in  abeyance 
by  the  bright  sun,  was  not  deeper  even  in  the 
once  magnificent,  now  neglected,  Governor's 
Garden,  where  there  was  actually  a  rawness  in 
the  late  afternoon  air,  and  whither  they  were 
strolling  for  the  view  from  its  height,  and  to 
pay  their  duty  to  the  obelisk  raised  there  to 
the  common  fame  of  Wolfe  and  Montcalm. 
The  sounding  Latin  inscription  celebrates  the 
royal  governor-general  who  erected  it  almost  as 
much  as  the  heroes  to  whom  it  was  raised  ;  but 
these  spectators  did  not  begrudge  the  space 
given  to  his  praise,  for  so  fine  a  thought  mer- 
ited praise.  It  enforced  again  the  idea  of  a 
kind  of  posthumous  friendship  between  Wolfe 
and  Montcalm,  which  gives  their  memory  its 
rare  distinction,  and  unites  them,  who  fell  in 
fight  against  each  other,  as  closely  as  if  they 
had  both  died  for  the  same  cause. 

Some  lasting  dignity  seems  to  linger  about 
the  city  that  has  once  been  a  capital ;  and  this 
odor  of  fallen  nobility  belongs  to  Quebec,  which 
was  a  capital  in  the  European  sense,  with  all 
the  advantages  of  a  small  vice-regal  court,  and 


Quebec  3J3 

its  social  and  political  intrigues,  in  the  French 
times.  Under  the  English,  for  a  hundred  years 
it  was  the  centre  of  Colonial  civilization  and 
refinement,  with  a  governor-general's  residence 
and  a  brilliant,  easy,  and  delightful  society,  to 
which  the  large  garrison  of  former  days  gave 
gayety  and  romance.  The  honors  of  a  capital, 
first  shared  with  Montreal  and  Toronto,  now 
rest  with  half-savage  Ottawa  ;  and  the  garrison 
has  dwindled  to  a  regiment  of  rifles,  whose 
presence  would  hardly  be  known  but  for  the 
natty  sergeants  lounging,  stick  in  hand,  about 
the  streets  and  courting  the  nursemaids.  But 
in  the  days  of  old  there  were  scenes  of  carnival 
pleasure  in  the  Governor's  Garden,  and  there 
the  garrison  band  still  plays  once  a  week,  when 
it  is  filled  by  the  fashion  and  beauty  of  Quebec, 
and  some  semblance  of  the  past  is  recalled.  It 
is  otherwise  a  lonesome,  indifferently  tended 
place,  and  on  this  afternoon  there  was  no  one 
there  but  a  few  loafing  young  fellows  of  low 
degree,  French  and  English,  and  children  that 
played  screaming  from  seat  to  seat  and  path  to 
path  and  over  the  too-heavily  shaded  grass.  In 
spite  of  a  conspicuous  warning  that  any  dog 
entering  the  garden  would  be  destroyed,  the 
place  was  thronged  with  dogs  unmolested  and 
apparently  in  no  danger  of  the  threatened  doom. 
The  seal  of  a  disagreeable  desolation  was  given 


314  Their  Wedding  Journey 

in  the  legend  rudely  carved  upon  one  of  the 
benches,  "  Success  to  the  Irish  Republic  !  " 

The  morning  of  the  next  day  our  tourists 
gave  to  hearing  mass  at  the  French  cathedral, 
which  was  not  different,  to  their  heretical 
senses,  from  any  other  mass,  except  that  the 
ceremony  was  performed  with  a  very  full  cler- 
ical force,  and  was  attended  by  an  uncommonly 
devout  congregation.  With  Europe  constantly 
in  their  minds,  they  were  bewildered  to  find 
the  worshipers  not  chiefly  old  and  young 
women,  but  men  also  of  all  ages  and  of  every 
degree,  from  the  neat  peasant  in  his  Sabbath- 
day  best  to  the  modish  young  Quebecker,  who 
spread  his  handkerchief  on  the  floor  to  save  his 
pantaloons  during  supplication.  There  was 
fashion  and  education  in  large  degree  among 
the  men,  and  there  was  in  all  a  pious  attention 
to  the  function  in  poetical  keeping  with  the 
origin  and  history  of  a  city  which  the  zeal  of 
the  Church  had  founded. 

A  magnificent  beadle,  clothed  in  a  gold-laced 
coat  and  bearing  a  silver  staff,  bowed  to  them 
when  they  entered,  and,  leading  them  to  a  pew, 
punched  up  a  kneeling  peasant,  who  mutely 
resumed  his  prayers  in  the  aisle  outside,  while 
they  took  his  place.  It  appeared  to  Isabel  very 
unjust  that  their  curiosity  should  displace  his 
religion ;  but  she  consoled  herself  by  making 


Quebec 


3*5 


Basil  give  a  shilling  to  the  man  who,  preceded 
by  the  shining  beadle,  came  round  to  take  up  a 
collection.  The  peasant  could  have  given 
nothing  but  copper,  and  she  felt  that  this 
restored  the  lost  balance  of  righteousness  in 
their  favor.  There  was  a  sermon,  very  sweetly 
and  gracefully  delivered 
by  a  young  priest  of 
singular  beauty,  even 
among  clergy  whose 
good  looks  are  so  no- 
table as  those  of  Que- 
bec ;  and  then  they  fol- 
lowed the  orderly  crowd 
of  worshipers  out,  and 
left  the  cathedral  to  the 
sacristan  and  the  odor 
of  incense. 

They thought  the  type 
of  French  -  Canadian 
better  here  than  at  Mon- 
treal, and  they  particularly  noticed  the  greater 
number  of  pretty  young  girls.  All  classes  were 
well  dressed  ;  for  though  the  best  dressed  could 
not  be  called  stylish  according  to  the  American 
standard,  as  Isabel  decided,  and  had  only  a  pro- 
vincial gentility,  the  poorest  wore  garments  that 
were  clean  and  whole.  Everybody,  too,  was 
going  to  have  a  hot  Sunday  dinner,  if  there  was 


A  n  Old  Gateway 


316  Their  Wedding  Journey 

any  truth  in  the  odors  that  steamed  out  of  every 
door  and  window  ;  and  this  dinner  was  to  be 
abundantly  garnished  with  onions,  for  the  dull- 
est nose  could  not  err  concerning  that  savor. 

Numbers  of  tourists,  of  a  nationality  that 
showed  itself  superior  to  every  distinction  of 
race,  were  strolling  vaguely,  and  not  always 
quite  happily  about ;  but  they  made  no  impres- 
sion on  the  proper  local  character,  and  the  air 
throughout  the  morning  was  full  of  the  senti- 
ment of  Sunday  in  a  Catholic  city.  There  was 
the  apparently  meaningless  jangling  of  bells, 
with  profound  hushes  between,  and  then  more 
jubilant  jangling,  and  then  deeper  silence; 
there  was  the  devout  trooping  of  the  crowds  to 
the  churches  ;  and  there  was  the  beginning  of 
the  long  afternoon's  lounging  and  amusement 
with  which  the  people  of  that  faith  reward  their 
morning's  devotion.  Little  stands  for  the  sale 
of  knotty  apples  and  choke-cherries  and  cakes 
and  cider  sprang  magically  into  existence  after 
service,  and  people  were  already  eating  and 
drinking  at  them.  The  carriage-drivers  resumed 
their  chase  of  the  tourists,  and  the  unvoiceful 
stir  of  the  new  week  had  begun  again.  Quebec, 
in  fact,  is  but  a  pantomimic  reproduction  of 
France ;  it  is  as  if  two  centuries  in  a  new  land, 
amidst  the  primeval  silences  of  nature  and  the 
long  hush  of  the  Northern  winters,  had  stilled 


Quebec  317 

the  tongues  of  the  lively  folk  and  made  them 
taciturn  as  we  of  a  graver  race.  They  have 
kept  the  ancestral  vivacity  of  manner  ;  the  ele- 
gance of  the  shrug  is  intact ;  the  talking  hands 
take  part  in  dialogue ;  the  agitated  person  will 
have  its  share  of  expression.  But  the  loud  and 
eager  tone  is  wanting,  and  their  dumb  show 
mystifies  the  beholder  almost  as  much  as  the 
Southern  architecture  under  the  slanting  North- 
ern sun.  It  is  not  America ;  if  it  is  not  France, 
what  is  it  ? 

Of  the  many  beautiful  things  to  see  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Quebec,  our  wedding-journey- 
ers  were  in  doubt  on  which  to  bestow  their  one 
precious  afternoon.  Should  it  be  Lorette,  with 
its  cataract  and  its  remnant  of  bleached  and 
fading  Hurons ;  or  the  Isle  of  Orleans,  with  its 
fertile  farms  and  its  primitive  peasant  life  ;  or 
Montmorenci,  with  the  unrivaled  fall  and  the 
long  drive  through  the  beautiful  village  of 
Beauport  ?  Isabel  chose  the  last,  because  Basil 
had  been  there  before,  and  it  had  to  it  the 
poetry  of  the  wasted  years  in  which  she  did  not 
know  him.  She  had  possessed  herself  of  the 
journal  of  his  early  travels,  among  the  other 
portions  and  parcels  recoverable  from  the  dread- 
ful past,  and  from  time  to  time  on  this  journey 
she  had  read  him  passages  out  of  it,  with  min- 
gled sentiment  and  irony,  and,  whether  she  was 


318  Their  Wedding  Journey 

mocking  or  admiring,  equally  to  his  confusion. 
Now,  as  they  smoothly  bowled  away  from  the 
city,  she  made  him  listen  to  what  he  had  written 
of  the  same  excursion  long  ago. 

It  was,  to  be  sure,  a  sad  farrago  of  sentiment 
about  the  village  and  the  rural  sights,  and 
especially  a  girl  tossing  hay  in  a  field.  Yet  it 
had  touches  of  nature  and  reality,  and  Basil 
could  not  utterly  despise  himself  for  having 
written  it.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "life  was  then  a 
thing  to  be  put  into  pretty  periods ;  now  it  's 
something  that  has  risks  and  averages,  and  may 
be  insured." 

There  was  regret,  fancied  or  expressed,  in  his 
tone,  that  made  her  sigh,  "  Ah !  if  I  'd  only  had 
a  little  more  money,  you  might  have  devoted 
yourself  to  literature  ; "  for  she  was  a  true  Bos- 
tonian  in  her  honor  of  our  poor  craft. 

"'Oh,  you  're  not  greatly  to  blame,"  answered 
her  husband,  "  and  I  forgive  you  the  little  wrong 
you  've  done  me.  I  was  quits  with  the  Muse, 
at  any  rate,  you  know,  before  we  were  married  ; 
and  I  'm  very  well  satisfied  to  be  going  back  to 
my  applications  and  policies  to-morrow." 

To-morrow  ?  The  words  struck  cold  upon 
her.  Then  their  wedding  journey  would  begin 
to  end  to-morrow !  So  it  would,  she  owned 
with  another  sigh  ;  and  yet  it  seemed  impossible. 

"There,  ma'am,"  said  the  driver,  rising  from 


Quebec  319 

his  seat  and  facing  round,  while  he  pointed 
with  his  whip  towards  Quebec,  "  that  's  what  we 
call  the  Silver  City." 

They  looked  back  with  him  at  the  city,  whose 
thousands  of  tinned  roofs,  rising  one  above  the 
the  other  from  the  water's  edge  to  the  citadel, 
were  all  a  splendor  of  argent  light  in  the  after- 
noon sun.  It  was  indeed  as  if  some  magic  had 
clothed  that  huge  rock,  base  and  steepy  flank 
and  crest,  with  a  silver  city.  They  gazed  upon 
the  marvel  with  cries  of  joy  that  satisfied  the 
driver's  utmost  pride  in  it,  and  Isabel  said,  "  To 
live  there,  there  in  that  Silver  City,  in  perpetual 
sojourn  !  To  be  always  going  to  go  on  a  mor- 
row that  never  came !  To  be  forever  within 
one  day  of  the  end  of  a  wedding  journey  that 
never  ended  ! " 

From  far  down  the  river  by  which  they  rode 
came  the  sound  of  a  cannon,  breaking  the  Sab- 
bath repose  of  the  air.  "That  's  the  gun  of 
the  Liverpool  steamer,  just  coming  in,"  said 
the  driver. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Isabel,  "  I  'm  thankful  we  're  only 
to  stay  one  night  more,  for  now  we  shall  be 
turned  out  of  our  nice  room  by  those  people 
who  telegraphed  for  it !  " 

There  is  a  continuous  village  along  the  St. 
Lawrence  from  Quebec,  almost  to  Montmo- 
renci ;  and  they  met  crowds  of  villagers  com- 


320 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


ing  from  the  church  as  they  passed  through 
Beauport.  But  Basil  was  dismayed  at  the 
change  that  had  befallen  them.  They  had  their 
Sunday's  best  on,  and  the  women,  instead  of 
wearing  the  peasant  costume  in  which  he  had 


The  Village  Street 

first  seen  them,  were  now  dressed  as  if  out  of 
"  Harper's  Bazar  "  of  the  year  before.  He  anx- 
iously asked  the  driver  if  the  broad  straw  hats 
and  the  bright  sacks  and  kirtles  were  no  more. 
"  Oh,  you  'd  see  them  on  week  days,  sir,"  was 
the  answer,  "but  they  're  not  so  plenty  any 
time  as  they  used  to  be."  He  opened  his  store 
of  facts  about  the  habitans,  whom  he  praised 


Quebec  321 

for  every  virtue,  —  for  thrift,  for  sobriety,  for 
neatness,  for  amiability  ;  and  his  words  ought 
to  have  had  the  greater  weight,  because  he  was 
of  the  Irish  race,  between  which  and  the  Cana- 
dians there  is  no  kindness  lost.  But  the  looks 
of  the  passers-by  corroborated  him,  and  as  for 
the  little  houses,  open-doored  beside  the  way, 
with  the  pleasant  faces  at  window  and  portal, 
they  were  miracles  of  picturesqueness  and 
cleanliness.  From  each  the  owner's  slim  do- 
main, narrowing  at  every  successive  division 
among  the  abundant  generations,  runs  back  to 
hill  or  river  in  well-defined  lines,  and  beside  the 
cottage  is  a  garden  of  pot-herbs,  bordered  with 
a  flame  of  bright  autumn  flowers  ;  somewhere  in 
decent  seclusion  grunts  the  fattening  pig,  which 
is  to  enrich  all  those  peas  and  onions  for  the 
winter's  broth  ;  there  is  a  cheerfulness  of  poul- 
try about  the  barns;  I  dare  be  sworn  there  is 
always  a  small  girl  driving  a  flock  of  decorous 
ducks  down  the  middle  of  the  street ;  and  of. 
the  priest  with  a  book  under  his  arm,  passing 
a  wayside  shrine,  what  possible  doubt  ?  The 
houses,  which  are  of  one  model,  are  built  by 
the  peasants  themselves  with  the  stone  which 
their  land  yields  more  abundantly  than  any 
other  crop,  and  are  furnished  with  galleries  and 
balconies  to  catch  every  ray  of  the  fleeting  sum- 
mer, and  perhaps  to  remember  the  long-lost 


322  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

ancestral  summers  of  Normandy.  At  every 
moment,  in  passing  through  this  ideally  neat 
and  pretty  village,  our  tourists  must  think  of 
the  lovely  poem  of  which  all  French  Canada 
seems  but  a  reminiscence  and  illustration.  It 
was  Grand  Pre,  not  Beauport;  and  they  paid 
an  eager  homage  to  the  beautiful  genius  which 
has  touched  those  simple  village  aspects  with 
an  undying  charm,  and  which,  whatever  the 
land's  political  allegiance,  is  there  perpetual 
Seigneur. 

The  village,  stretching  along  the  broad  inter- 
vale of  the  St.  Lawrence,  grows  sparser  as  you 
draw  near  "the  Falls  of  Montmorenci,  and  pres- 
ently you  drive  past  the  grove  shutting  from 
the  road  the  country-house  in  which  the  Duke 
of  Kent  spent  some  merry  days  of  his  jovial 
youth,  and  come  in  sight  of  two  lofty  towers  of 
stone,  —  monuments  and  witnesses  of  the  tra- 
gedy of  Montmorenci. 

Once  a  suspension  bridge,  built  sorely  against 
the  will  of  the  neighboring  habitam,  hung  from 
these  towers  high  over  the  long  plunge  of  the 
cataract.  But  one  morning  of  the  fatal  spring 
after  the  first  winter's  frost  had  tried  the  hold 
of  the  cable  on  the  rocks,  an  old  peasant  and 
his  wife  with  their  little  grandson  set  out  in 
their  cart  to  pass  the  bridge.  As  they  drew 
near  the  middle  the  anchoring  wires  suddenly 


Quebec  323 

lost  their  grip  upon  the  shore,  and  whirled  into 
the  air;  the  bridge  crashed  under  the  hapless 
passengers  and  they  were  launched  from  its 
height  upon  the  verge  of  the  fall  and  thence 
plunged,  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  into  the 
ruin  of  the  abyss. 

The  habitans  rebuilt  their  bridge  of  wood 
upon  low  stone  piers,  so  far  up  the  river  from 
the  cataract  that  whoever  fell  from  it  would  yet 
have  many  a  chance  for  life ;  and  it  would  have 
been  perilous  to  offer  to  replace  the  fallen 
structure,  which,  in  the  belief  of  faithful  Chris- 
tians, clearly  belonged  to  the  numerous  bridges 
built  by  the  Devil,  in  times  when  the  Devil  did 
not  call  himself  a  civil  engineer. 

The  driver,  with  just  unction,  recounted  the 
sad  tale  as  he  halted  his  horses  on  the  bridge  ; 
and  as  his  passengers  looked  down  the  rock- 
fretted  brown  torrent  towards  the  fall,  Isabel 
seized  the  occasion  to  shudder  that  ever  she 
had  set  foot  on  that  suspension  bridge  below 
Niagara,  and  to  prove  to  Basil's  confusion  that 
her  doubt  of  the  bridges  between  the  Three 
Sisters  was  not  a  case  of  nerves  but  an  instinc- 
tive wisdom  concerning  the  unsafety  of  all 
bridges  of  that  design. 

From  the  gate  opening  into  the  grounds 
about  the  fall  two  or.  three  little  French  boys, 
whom  they  had  not  the  heart  to  forbid,  ran 


324  TJieir  Wedding  Journey 


noisily  before  them  with  cries  in  their  sole 
English,  "  This  way,  sir ! "  and  led  toward  a 
weather-beaten  summer-house  that  tottered 
upon  a  projecting  rock  above  the  verge  of  the 
cataract.  But  our  tourists  shook  their  heads, 
and  turned  away  for  a  more  distant  and  less 
dizzy  enjoyment  of  the  spectacle,  though  any 
commanding  point  was  sufficiently  chasmal  and 
precipitous.  The  lofty  bluff  was  scooped 
inward  from  the  St.  Lawrence  in  a  vast  irreg- 
ular semicircle,  with  cavernous  hollows,  one 
within  another,  sinking  far  into  its  sides,  and 
naked  from  foot  to  crest,  or  meagrely  wooded 
here  and  there  with  evergreen.  From  the 
central  brink  of  these  gloomy  purple  chasms 
the  foamy  cataract  launched  itself,  and  like  a 
cloud,  — 

"  Along  the  cliff  to  fall  and  pause  and  fall  did  seem." 

I  say  a  cloud,  because  I  find  it  already  said  to 
my  hand,  as  it  were,  in  a  pretty  verse,  and 
because  I  must  needs  liken  Montmorenci  to 
something  that  is  soft  and  light.-  Yet  a  cloud 
does  not  represent  the  glinting  of  the  water  in 
its  downward  swoop  ;  it  is  like  some  broad  slope 
of  sun-smitten  snow ;  but  snow  is  coldly  white 
and  opaque,  and  this  has  a  creamy  warmth  in  its 
luminous  mass  ;  and  so,  there  hangs  the  cataract 
unsaid  as  before.  It  is  a  mystery  that  anything 


Montm  or  end 


Quebec  327 

so  grand  should  be  so  lovely,  that  anything  so 
tenderly  fair  in  whatever  aspect  should  yet  be 
so  large  that  one  glance  fails  to » comprehend  it 
all.  The  rugged  wildness  of  the  cliffs  and  hol- 
lows about  it  is  softened  by  its  gracious  beauty, 
which  half  redeems  the  vulgarity  of  the  timber- 
merchant's  uses  in  setting  the  river  at  work  in 
his  saw-mills  and  choking  its  outlet  into  the  St. 
Lawrence  with  rafts  of  lumber  and  rubbish  of 
slabs  and  shingles.  Nay,  rather,  it  is  alone 
amidst  these  things,  and  the  eye  takes  note  of 
them  by  a  separate  effort. 

Our  tourists  sank  down  upon  the  turf  that 
crept  with  its  white  clover  to  the  edge  of  the 
precipice,  and  gazed  dreamily  upon  the  fall, 
filling  their  vision  with  its  exquisite  color  and 
form.  Being  wiser  than  I,  they  did  not  try  to 
utter  its  loveliness  ;  they  were  content  to  feel 
it,  and  the  perfection  of  the  afternoon,  whose 
low  sun  slanting  over  the  landscape  gave,  under 
that  pale,  greenish  blue  sky,  a  pensive  sentiment 
of  autumn  to  the  world.  The  crickets  cried 
amongst  the  grass  ;  the  hesitating  chirp  of 
birds  came  from  the  tree  overhead  ;  a  shaggy 
colt  left  off  grazing  in  the  field  and  stalked  up 
to  stare  at  them  ;  their  little  guides,  having 
found  that  these  people  had  no  pleasure  in  the 
sight  of  small  boys  scuffling  on  the  verge  of  a 
precipice,  threw  themselves  also  down  upon  the 


328  Their  Wedding  Journey 

grass  and  crooned  a  long,  long  ballad  in  a 
mournful  minor  key  about  some  maiden  whose 
name  was, La  Belle  Adeline.  It  was  a  moment 
of  unmixed  enjoyment  for  every  sense,  and 
through  all  their  being  they  were  glad  ;  which 
considering,  they  ceased  to  be  so,  with  a  deep 
sigh,  as  one  reasoning  that  he  dreams  must  pres- 
ently awake.  They  never  could  have  an  emo- 
tion without  desiring  to  analyze  it ;  but  perhaps 
their  rapture  would  have  ceased  as  swiftly,  even 
if  they  had  not  tried  to  make  it  a  fact  of  con- 
sciousness. 

"  If  there  were  not  dinner  after  such  experi- 
ences as  these,"  said  Isabel,  as  they  sat  at 
table  that  evening,  "  I  don't  know  what  would 
become  of  one.  But  dinner  unites  the  idea  of 
pleasure  and  duty,  and  brings  you  gently  back 
to  earth.  You  must  eat,  don't  you  see,  and 
there  's  nothing  disgraceful  about  what  you  're 
obliged  to  do  ;  and  so  —  it  's  all  right." 

"Isabel,  Isabel,"  cried  her  husband,  "you 
have  a  wonderful  mind,  and  its  workings  always 
amaze  me.  But  be  careful,  my  dear ;  be  care- 
ful. Don't  work  it  too  hard.  The  human 
brain,  you  know  —  delicate  organ." 

"Well,  you  understand  what  I  mean ;  and  I 
think  it 's  one  of  the  great  charms  of  a  husband, 
that  you  're  not  forced  to  express  yourself  to 


Quebec  329 


him.  A  husband,"  continued  Isabel  senten- 
tiously,  poising  a  bit  of  meringue  between  her 
thumb  and  finger, — for  they  had  reached  that 
point  in  the  repast,  —  "a  husband  is  almost  as 
good  as  another  woman  !  " 

In  the  parlor  they  found  the  Ellisons,  and 
exchanged  the  history  of  the  day  with  them. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  at  the  end, 
"  it  's  been  a  pleasant  day  enough,  but  what  of 
the  night  ?  You  've  been  turned  out,  too,  by 
those  people  who  came  on  the  steamer,  and  who 
might  as  well  have  stayed  on  board  to-night ; 
have  you  got  another  room  ?  " 

"  Not  precisely,"  said  Isabel ;  "  we  have  a 
coop  in  the  fifth  story,  right  under  the  roof." 

Mrs.  Ellison  turned  energetically  upon  her 
husband,  and  cried  in  tones  of  reproach,  "  Rich- 
ard, Mrs.  March  has  a  room  !  " 

"  A  coop,  she  said"  retorted  that  amiable 
Colonel,  "  and  we  're  too  good  for  that.  The 
clerk  is  keeping  us  in  suspense  about  a  room 
because  he  means  to  surprise  us  with  some- 
thing palatial  at  the  end.  It  's  his  joking 
way." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Mrs.  Ellison.  "  Have 
you  seen  him  since  dinner  ? " 

"  I  have  made  life  a  burden  to  him  for  the 
last  half-hour,"  returned  the  Colonel,  with  the 
kindliest  smile. 


33° 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


"  O  Richard,"  cried  his  wife,  in  despair  of  his 
amendment,  "you  wouldn't  make  life  a  burden 
to  a  mouse  !  "     And  having  nothing  else  for  it, 
she  laughed,  half  in  sorrow,  half  in  fondness. 
"Well,     Fanny,"     the     Colonel    irrelevantly 
answered,  "put  on  your 
hat  and  things,  and  let 's 
all  go  up  to  Durham  Ter- 
race for  a  promenade.     I 
know   our   friends   want 
to   go.     It  's    something 
worth  seeing ;  and  by  the 
time    we   get   back,    the 
clerk  will  have  us  a  per- 
fectly sumptuous    apart- 
ment." 

Nothing,  I  think,  more 
enforces  the  illusion  of 
Southern  Europe  in  Que- 
bec than  the  Sunday-night  promenading  on 
Durham  Terrace.  This  is  the  ample  space  on 
the  brow  of  the  cliff  to  the  left  of  the  cita- 
del, the  noblest  and  most  commanding  position 
in  the  whole  city,  which  was  formerly  occupied 
by  the  old  castle  of  St.  Louis,  where  dwelt  the 
brave  Count  Frontenac  and  his  splendid  suc- 
cessors of  the  French  regime.  The  castle  went 
the  way  of  Quebec  by  fire  some  forty  years  ago, 
and  Lord  Durham  leveled  the  site  and  made  it 


On  Durham  Terrace 


Quebec  33 r 

a  public  promenade.  A  stately  arcade  of  solid 
masonry  supports  it  on  the  brink  of  the  rock, 
and  an  iron  parapet  incloses  it ;  there  are  a  few 
seats  to  lounge  upon,  and  some  idle  old  guns 
for  the  children  to  clamber  over  and  play  with. 
A  soft  twilight  had  followed  the  day,  and  there 
was  just  enough  obscurity  to  hide  from  a  willing 
eye  the  Northern  and  New  World  facts  of  the 
scene,  and  to  bring  into  more  romantic  relief 
the  citadel  dark  against  the  mellow  evening, 
and  the  people  gossiping  from  window  to  window 
across  the  narrow  streets  of  the  Lower  Town. 
The  Terrace  itself  was  densely  thronged,  and 
there  was  a  constant  coming  and  going  of  the 
promenaders,  who  each  formally  paced  back  and 
forth  upon  the  planking  for  a  certain  time,  and 
then  went  quietly  home,  giving  place  to  the 
new  arrivals.  They  were  nearly  all  French, 
and  they  were  not  generally,  it  seemed,  of  the 
first  fashion,  but  rather  of  middling  condition 
in  life  ;  the  English  being  represented  only  by 
a  few  young  fellows  and  now  and  then  a  red- 
faced  old  gentleman  with  an  Indian  scarf  trail- 
ing from  his  hat.  There  were  some  fair  Amer- 
ican costumes  and  faces  in  the  crowd,  but  it 
was  essentially  Quebeckian.  The  young  girls 
walking  in  pairs,  or  with  their  lovers,  had  the 
true  touch  of  provincial  unstylishness,  the 
young  men  the  ineffectual  excess  of  the  second- 


33  2  Their  Wedding  Journey 


rate  Latin  dandy,  their  elders  the  rich  inele- 
gance of  a  bourgeoisie  in  their  best.  A  few 
better-figured  avocats  or  notaircs  (their  pro- 
fession was  as  unmistakable  as  if  they  had  car- 
ried their  well-polished  brass  doorplates  upon 
their  breasts)  walked  and  gravely  talked  with 
each  other.  The  non-American  character  of 
the  scene  was  not  less  vividly  marked  in  the 
fact  that  each  person  dressed  according  to  his 
own  taste  and  frankly  indulged  private  prefer- 
ences in  shapes  and  colors.  One  of  the  prom- 
enaders  was  in  white,  even  to  his  canvas  shoes ; 
another,  with  yet  bolder  individuality,  appeared 
in  perfect  purple.  It  had  a  strange,  almost 
portentous  effect  when  these  two  startling  fig- 
ures met  as  friends  and  joined  each  other  in 
the  promenade  with  linked  arms  ;  but  the  even- 
ing was  already  beginning  to  darken  round  them, 
and  presently  the  purple  comrade  was  merely  a 
sombre  shadow  beside  the  glimmering  white. 

The  valleys  and  the  heights  now  vanished ; 
but  the  river  defined  itself  by  the  varicolored 
lights  of  the  ships  and  steamers  that  lay,  dark, 
motionless  bulks,  upon  its  broad  breast ;  the 
lights  of  Point  Levis  swarmed  upon  the  other 
shore ;  the  Lower  Town,  two  hundred  feet 
below  them,  stretched  an  alluring  mystery  of 
clustering  roofs  and  lamplit  windows  and  dark 
and  shining  streets  around  the  mighty  rock, 


Quebec  333 

mural-crowned.  Suddenly  a  spectacle  pecul- 
iarly Northern  and  characteristic  of  Quebec 
revealed  itself ;  a  long  arch  brightened  over  the 
northern  horizon  ;  the  tremulous  flames  of  the 
aurora,  pallid  violet  or  faintly  tinged  with  crim- 
son, shot  upward  from  it,  and  played  with  a 
weird  apparition  and  evanescence  to  the  zenith. 
While  the  strangers  looked,  a  gun  boomed  from 
the  citadel,  and  the  wild  sweet  notes  of  the 
bugle  sprang  out  upon  the  silence. 

Then  they  all  said,  "  How  perfectly  in  keep- 
ing everything  has  been  ! "  and  sauntered  back 
to  the  hotel. 

The  Colonel  went  into  the  office  to  give  the 
clerk  another  turn  on  the  rack,  and  make  him 
confess  to  a  hidden  apartment  somewhere,  while 
Isabel  left  her  husband  to  Mrs.  Ellison  in  the 
parlor,  and  invited  Miss  Kitty  to  look  at  her 
coop  in  the  fifth  story.  As  they  approached, 
light  and  music  and  laughter  stole  out  of  an 
open  door  next  hers,  and  Isabel,  distinguishing 
the  voices  of  the  theatrical  party,  divined  that 
this  was  the  sick-chamber,  and  that  they  were 
again  cheering  up  the  afflicted  member  of  the 
troupe.  Some  one  was  heard  to  say,  "Well, 
'ow  do  you  feel  now,  Charley  ?"  and  a  sound  of 
subdued  swearing  responded,  followed  by  more 
laughter,  and  the  twanging  of  a  guitar,  and  a 
snatch  of  song,  and  a  stir  of  feet  and  dresses 
as  for  departure. 


334  Their  Wedding  Journey 

The  two  listeners  shrank  together;  as  wo- 
men they  could  not  enjoy  these  proofs  of  the 
jolly  camaraderie  existing  among  the  people  of 
the  troupe.  They  trembled  as  before  the  merri- 
ment of  as  many  light-hearted,  careless,  good- 
natured  young  men ;  it  was  no  harm,  but  it  was 
dismaying;  and,  "Dear!"  cried  Isabel,  "what 
shall  we  do  ? " 

"Go  back,"  said  Miss  Ellison  boldly;  and 
back  they  ran  to  the  parlor,  where  they  found 
Basil  and  the  Colonel  and  his  wife  in  earnest 
conclave.  The  Colonel,  like  a  shrewd  strate- 
gist, was  making  show  of  a  desperation  more 
violent  than  his  wife's,  who  was  thus  naturally 
forced  into  the  attitude  of  moderating  his  fury. 

"Well,  Fanny,  that  's  all  he  can  do  for  us  ; 
and  I  do  think  it  's  the  most  outrageous  thing 
in  the  world  !  It  's  real  mean  !  " 

Fanny  perceived  a  bold  parody  of  her  own 
denunciatory  manner,  but  just  then  she  was 
obliged  to  answer  Isabel's  eager  inquiry 
whether  they  had  got  a  room  yet.  "Yes  a 
room,"  she  said,  "  with  two  beds.  But  what  are 
we  to  do  with  one  room  ?  That  clerk  —  I  don't 
know  what  to  call  him"  —("Call  him  a  hotel 
clerk,  my  dear;  you  can't  say  anything  worse," 
interrupted  her  husband)  —  "  seems  to  think 
the  matter  perfectly  settled." 

"You  see,  Mrs.  March,"  added  the  Colonel, 


Quebec  335 

"  he  's  able  to  bully  us  in  this  way  because  he 
has  the  architecture  on  his  side.  There  is  n't 
another  room  in  the  house." 

"  Let  me  think  a  moment,"  said  Isabel,  not 
thinking  an  instant.  She  had  taken  a  fancy  to 
at  least  two  of  these  people  from  the  first,  and 
in  the  last  hour  they  had  all  become  very  well 
acquainted  ;  now  she  said,  "  I  '11  tell  you  :  there 
are  two  beds  in  our  room  also  ;  we  ladies  will 
take  one  room,  and  you  gentlemen  the 'other  !" 

"  Mrs.  March,  I  bow  to  the  superiority  of  the 
Boston  mind,"  said  the  Colonel,  while  his  fe- 
males civilly  protested  and  consented ;  "  and  I 
might  almost  hail  you  as  our  preserver.  If  ever 
you  come  to  Milwaukee,  —  which  is  the  centre 
of  the  world,  as  Boston  is, — we —  I  —  shall  be 
happy  to  have  you  call  at  my  place  of  business. 
-  I  did  n't  commit  myself,  did  I,  Fanny  ?  — 
I  am  sometimes  hospitable  to  excess,  Mrs. 
March,"  he  said,  to  explain  his  aside.  'And, 
now,  let  us  reconnoitre.  Lead  on,  madam,  and 
the  gratitude  of  the  houseless  stranger  will  fol- 
low you." 

The  whole  party  explored  both  rooms,  and 
the  ladies  decided  to  keep  Isabel's.  The  Colo- 
nel was  dispatched  to  see  that  the  wraps  and 
traps  of  his  party  were  sent  to  this  number,  and 
Basil  went  with  him.  The  things  came  long  be- 
fore the  gentlemen  returned,  but  the  ladies  hap- 


336  Their  Wedding  Journey 

pily  employed  the  interval  in  talking  over  the 
excitements  of  the  day,  and  in  saying  from  time 
to  time,  "  So  very  kind  of  you,  Mrs.  March,"  and 
"  I  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done,"  and 
"Don't  speak  of  it,  please,"  and  "I  'm  sure 
it  's  a  great  pleasure  to  me." 

In  the  room  adjoining  theirs,  where  the  in- 
valid actor  lay,  and  where  lately  there  had  been 
minstrelsy  and  apparently  dancing  for  his  sol- 
ace, there  was  now  comparative  silence.  Two 
women's  voices  talked  together,  and  now  and 
then  a  guitar  was  touched  by  a  wandering  hand. 
Isabel  had  just  put  up  her  handkerchief  to  con- 
ceal her  first  yawn,  when  the  gentlemen,  odor- 
ous of  cigars,  returned  to  say  good-night. 

"  It  's  the  second  door  from  this,  is  n't  it, 
Isabel  ?  "•  asked  her  husband. 

"  Yes,  the  second  door.     Good-night." 

"  Good-night." 

The  two  men  walked  off  together ;  but  in  a 
minute  afterwards  they  had  returned  and  were 
knocking  tremulously  at  the  closed  door. 

"Oh,  what  has  happened?"  chorused  the  la- 
dies in  woeful  tune,  seeing  a  certain  wildness 
in  the  faces  that  confronted  them. 

"We  don't  know!"  answered  the  others  in 
as  fearful  a  key,  and  related  how  they  had  found 
the  door  of  their  room  ajar,  and  a  bright  light 
streaming  into  the  corridor.  They  did  not  stop 


T/u'  Mermaid 


Quebec  339 

to  ponder  this  fact,  but,  tirith  the  heedlessness 
of  their  sex,  pushed  the  door  wide  open,  when 
they  saw  seated  before  the  mirror  a  bewilder- 
ing figure,  with  disheveled  locks  wandering 
down  the  back,  and  in  dishabille  expressive  of 
being  quite  at  home  there,  which  turned  upon 
them  a  pair  of  pale  blue  eyes,  under  a  forehead 
remarkable  for  the  straggling  fringe  of  hair 
that  covered  it.  They  professed  to  have  re- 
mained transfixed  at  the  sight,  and  to  have 
noted  a  like  dismay  on  the  visage  before  the 
glass,  ere  they  summoned  strength  to  fly. 
These  facts  Colonel  Ellison  gave  at  the  com- 
mand of  his  wife,  with  many  protests  and  in- 
sincere delays  amid  which  the  curiosity  of  his 
hearers  alone  prevented  them  from  rending 
him  in  pieces. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  it  was  ? "  de- 
mjanded  his  wife,  with  forced  calmness,  when 
he  had  at  last  made  an  end  of  the  story  and  his 
abominable  hypocrisies. 

"  Well,  7  think  it  was  a  mermaid." 

"A"  mermaid!"  said  his  wife  scornfully. 
"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"It  had  a  comb  in  its  hand,  for  one  thing; 
and  besides,  my  dear,  I  hope  I  know  a  mermaid 
when  I  see  it." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  it  was  no  mer- 
maid, it  was  a  mistake ;  and  I  'm  going  to  see 
about  it.  Will  you  go  with  me,  Richard  ?" 


34°  Their  Wedding  Journey 


"  No  money  could  induce  me  !  If  it 's  a  mis- 
take, it  is  n't  proper  for  me  to  go  ;  if  it 's  a 
mermaid,  it 's  dangerous." 

"  Oh  you  coward  ! "  said  the  intrepid  little 
woman  to  a  hero  of  all  the  fights  on  Sherman's 
march  to  the  sea ;  and  presently  they  heard  her 
attack  the  mysterious  enemy  with  a  lady-like 
courage,  claiming  the  invaded  chamber.  The 
foe  replied  with  like  civility,  saying  the  clerk 
had  given  her  that  room  with  the  understanding 
that  another  lady  was  to  be  put  there  with  her, 
and  she  had  left  the  door  unlocked  to  admit 
her.  The  watchers  with  the  sick  man  next 
door  appeared  and  confirmed  this  speech ;  a 
feeble  voice  from  the  bedclothes  swore  to  it. 

"Of  course,"  added  the  invader,  "if  I'd 
known  'ow  it  really  was,  I  never  would  'ave  lis- 
tened to  such  a  thing,  never.  And  there  is  n't 
another  'ole  in  the  'ouse  to  lay  me  'ead,"  she 
concluded. 

"Then  it  's  the  clerk's  fault,"  said  Mrs.  Elli- 
son, glad  to  retreat  unharmed  ;  and  she  made 
her  husband  ring  for  the  guilty  wretch,  a  pale, 
quiet  young  Frenchman,  whom  the  united 
party,  sallying  into  the  corridor,  began  to  up- 
braid in  one  breath,  the  lady  in  dishabille  van- 
ishing as  often  as  she  remembered  it,  and 
reappearing  whenever  some  strong  point  of 
argument  or  denunciation  occurred  to  her. 


Quebec  34  * 

The  clerk,  who  was  the  Benjamin  of  his 
wicked  tribe,  threw  himself  upon  their  mercy 
and  confessed  everything :  the  house  was  so 
crowded,  and  he  had  been  so  crazed  by  the  de- 
mands upon  him,  that  he  had  understood  Colo- 
nel Ellison's  application  to  be  for  a  bed  for  the 
young  lady  in  his  party,  and  he  had  done  the 
very  best  he  could.  If  the  lady  there  —  she 
vanished  again — would  give  up  the  room  to 
the  two  gentlemen,  he  would  find  her  a  place 
with  the  housekeeper.  To  this  the  lady  con- 
sented without  difficulty,  and  the  rest  dispers- 
ing, she  kissed  one  of  the  sick  man's  watchers, 
with  "Isn't  it  a  shame,  Bella?"  and  flitted 
down  the  darkness  of  the  corridor.  The  rooms 
upon  it  seemed  all,  save  the  two  assigned  our 
travelers,  to  be  occupied  by  ladies  of  the  troupe  ; 
their  doors  successively  opened,  and  she  was 
heard  explaining  to  each  as  she  passed.  The 
momentary  displeasure  which  she  had  shown 
at  her  banishment  was  over.  She  detailed  the 
facts  with  perfect  good-nature,  and  though  the 
others  appeared  no  more  than  herself  to  find 
any  humorous  cast  in  the  affair,  they  received 
her  narration  with  the  same  amiability.  They 
uttered  their  sympathy  seriously,  and  each 
parted  from  her  with  some  friendly  word. 
Then  all  was  still. 

"  Richard,"  said  Mrs.Ellison,  when  in  Isabel's 


342  Their  Wedding  Journey 

room  the  travelers  had  briefly  celebrated  these 
events,  "  I  should  think  you  'd  hate  to  leave  us 
alone  up  here." 

"  I  do ;  but  you  can't  think  how  I  hate  to  go 
off  alone.  I  wish  you  'd  come  part  of  the  way 
with  us,  ladies  ;  I  do  indeed.  Leave  your  door 
unlocked,  at  any  rate." 

This  prayer,  uttered  at  parting  outside  the 
room,  was  answered  from  within  by  a  sound  of 
turning  keys  and  sliding  bolts,  and  a  low  thun- 
der as  of  bureaus  and  wash  stands  rolled  against 
the  door.  "  The  ladies  are  fortifying  their  posi- 
tion," said  the  Colonel  to  Basil,  and  the  two  re- 
turned to  their  own  chamber.  "  I  don't  wish 
any  intrusions,"  he  said,  instantly  shutting  him- 
self in  ;  "  my  nerves  are  too  much  shaken  now. 
What  an  awfully  mysterious  old  place  this  Que- 
bec is,  Mr.  March  !  I  '11  tell  you  what :  it 's  my 
opinion  that  this  is  an  enchanted  castle,  and  if 
my  ribs  are  not  walked  over  by  a  muleteer  in 
the  course  of  the  night,  it 's  all  I  ask." 

In  this  and  other  discourse  recalling  the  fa- 
mous adventure  of  Don  Quixote,  the  Colonel 
beguiled  the  labor  of  disrobing,  and  had  got  as 
far  as  his  boots,  when  there  came  a  startling 
knock  at  the  door.  With  one  boot  in  his  hand 
and  the  other  on  his  foot,  the  Colonel  limped 
forward.  "  I  suppose  it 's  that  clerk  has  sent 
to  say  he  's  made  some  other  mistake,"  and  he 


Quebec  343 

flung  wide  the  door,  and  then  stood  motionless 
before  it,  dumbly  staring  at  a  figure  on  the 
threshold,  —  a  figure  with  the  fringed  forehead 
and  pale  blue  eyes  of  her  whom  they  had  so 
lately  turned  out  of  that  room, 

Shrinking  behind  the  side  of  the  doorway, 
"Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  with  a  dig- 
nity that  recalled  their  scattered  senses,  "  but 
will  you  'ave  the  goodness  to  look  if  my  beads 
are  on  your  table  ?  Oh,  thanks,  thanks,  thanks  ! " 
she  continued,  showing  her  face  and  one  hand, 
as  Basil  blushingly  advanced  with  a  string  of 
heavy  black  beads,  piously  adorned  with  a  large 
cross.  "  I  'm  sure,  I  'm  greatly  obliged  to  you, 
gentlemen,  and  I  hask  a  thousand  pardons  for 
troublin'  you,"  she  concluded  in  a  somewhat 
severe  tone,  that  left  them  abashed  and  cul- 
pable ;  and  vanished  as  mysteriously  as  she  had 
appeared. 

"Now,  see  here,"  said  the  Colonel,  with  a 
huge  sigh  as  he  closed  the  door  again,  and  this 
time  locked  it,  "  I  should  like  to  know  how  long 
this  sort  of  thing  is  to  be  kept  up  ?  Because, 
if  it 's  to  be  regularly  repeated  during  the  night, 
I  'm  going  to  dress  again."  Nevertheless,  he 
finished  undressing  and  got  into  bed,  where  he 
remained  for  some  time  silent.  Basil  put  out 
the  light.  "  Oh,  I  'm  sorry  you  did  that,  my  dear 
fellow,"  said  the  Colonel;  "but  never  mind,  it 


344  Their  Wedding  Journey 


was  an  idle  curiosity,  no  doubt.  It 's  my  belief 
that  in  the  landlord's  extremity  of  bed  linen  I  've 
been  put  to  sleep  between  a  pair  of  table-cloths  ; 
and  I  thought  I  'd  like  to  look.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  make  out  a  checkered  pattern  on  top  and 
a  flowered  or  arabesque  pattern  underneath. 
I  wish  they  had  given  me  mates.  It 's  pretty 
hard  having  to  sleep  between  odd  table-cloths. 
I  shall  complain  to  the  landlord  of  this  in  the 
morning.  I  've  never  had  to  sleep  between  odd 
table-cloths  at  any  hotel  before." 

The  Colonel's  voice  seemed  scarcely  to  have 
died  away  upon  Basil's  drowsy  ear,  when  sud- 
denly the  sounds  of  music  and  laughter  from 
the  invalid's  room  startled  him  wide  awake. 
The  sick  man's  watchers  were  coquetting  with 
some  one  who  stood  in  the  little  courtyard  five 
stories  below.  A  certain  breadth  of  repartee 
was  naturally  allowable  at  that  distance ;  the 
lover  avowed  his  passion  in  ardent  terms,  and 
the  ladies  mocked  him  with  the  same  freedom, 
now  and  then  totally  neglecting  him  while  they 
sang  a  snatch  of  song  to  the  twanging  of  the 
guitar,  or  talked  professional  gossip,  and  then 
returning  to  him  with  some  tormenting  expres- 
sion of  tenderness. 

All  this,  abstractly  speaking,  was  nothing  to 
Basil ;  yet  he  could  recollect  few  things  in- 
tended for  his  pleasure  that  had  given  him  more 


Quebec  345 

satisfaction.  He  thought,  as  he  glanced  out 
into  the  moonlight  on  the  high-gabled  silvery 
roofs  around  and  on  the  gardens  of  the  convents 
and  the  towers  of  the  quaint  city,  that  the  scene 
wanted  nothing  of  the  proper  charm  of  Spanish 
humor  and  romance,  and  he  was  as  grateful  to 
those  poor  souls  as  if  they  had  meant  him  a  favor. 
To  us  of  the  hither  side  of  the  foot-lights,  there 
is  always  something  fascinating  in  the  life  of 
the  strange  beings  who  dwell  beyond  them,  and 
who  are  never  so  unreal  as  in  their  own  charac- 
ters. In  their  shabby  bestowal  in  those  mean 
upper  rooms,  their  tawdry  poverty,  their  merry 
submission  to  the  errors  and  caprices  of  destiny, 
their  mutual  kindliness  and  careless  friendship, 
these  unprofitable  devotees  of  the  twinkling- 
footed  burlesque  seemed  to  be  playing  rather 
than  living  the  life  of  strolling  players  ;  and 
their  love-making  was  the  last  touch  of  a  com- 
edy that  Basil  could  hardly  accept  as  reality,  it 
was  so  much  more  like  something  seen  upon 
the  stage.  He  would  not  have  detracted  any- 
thing from  the  commonness  and  cheapness  of 
the  mise  en  scene,  for  that,  he  reflected  drowsily 
and  confusedly,  helped  to  give  it  an  air  of  fact 
and  make  it  like  an  episode  of  fiction.  But 
above  all,  he  was  pleased  with  the  natural 
eventlessness  of  the  whole  adventure,  which  was 
in  perfect  agreement  with  his  taste ;  and  just 


346  Their  Wedding  Journey 

as  his  reveries  began  to  lose  shape  in  dreams, 
he  was  aware  of  an  absurd  pride  in  the  fact 
that  all  this  could  have  happened  to  him  in  our 
commonplace  time  and  hemisphere.  "  Why," 
he  thought,  "  if  I  were  a  student  in  Alcala,  what 
better  could  I  have  asked  ? "  And  as  at  last 
his  soul  swung  out  from  its  moorings  and  lapsed 
down  the  broad  slowly  circling  tides  out  in  the 
sea  of  sleep,  he  was  conscious  of  one  subtile 
touch  of  compassion  for  those  poor  strollers,  — 
a  pity  so  delicate  and  fine  and  tender  that  it 
hardly  seemed  his  own,  but  rather  a  sense  of  the 
compassion  that  pities  the  whole  world. 


X 

HOMEWARD    AND    HOME 

THE  travelers  all  met  at  breakfast  and  duly 
discussed  the  adventures  of  the  night ;  and  for 
the  rest,  the  forenoon  passed  rapidly  and  slowly 
with  Basil  and  Isabel,  as  regret  to  leave  Quebec, 
or  the  natural  impatience  of  travelers  to  be  off, 
overcame  them.  Isabel  spent  part  of  it  in 
shopping,  for  she  had  found  some  small  sums 
of  money  and  certain  odd  corners  in  her  trunks 
still  unappropriated,  and  the  handsome  stores 
on  the  Rue  Fabrique  were  very  tempting.  She 
said  she  would  just  go  in  and  look ;  and  the 
wise  reader  imagines  the  result.  As  she  knelt 
over  her  boxes,  trying  so  to  distribute  her  pur- 
chases as  to  make  them  look  as  if  they  were 
old,  —  old  things  of  hers,  which  she  had  brought 
all  the  way  round  from  Boston  with  her, — a 
fleeting  touch  of  conscience  stayed  her  hand. 

"  Basil,"  she  said,  "  perhaps  we  'd  better  de- 
clare some  of  these  things.  What 's  the  duty  on 
those?"  she  asked,  pointing  to  certain  articles. 

"  I  don't  know.  About  a  hundred  per  cent. 
ad  valorem." 


348 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


A  Question  of  Duty 

"C'estadire—?" 

"As  much  as  they  cost." 

"  Oh,  then,  dearest,"  responded  Isabel  indig- 
nantly, "  it  can  t  be  wrong  to  smuggle  !  I  won't 
declare  a  thread  !  " 

"That 's  very  well  for  you,  whom  they  won't 
ask.  But  what  if  they  ask  me  whether  there  's 
anything  to  declare  ?  " 

Isabel  looked  at  her  husband  and  hesitated. 


Homeivard  and  Home  349 


Then  she  replied  in  terms  that  I  am  proud  to 
record  in  honor  of  American  womanhood : 
"  You  must  n't  fib  about  it,  Basil  "  (heroically) ; 
"  I  could  n't  respect  you  if  you  did  "  (tenderly) ; 
"  but "  (with  decision)  "you  must  slip  out  of  it 
some  way  !  " 

The  ladies  of  the  Ellison  party,  to  whom  she 
put  the  case  in  the  parlor,  agreed  with  her  per- 
fectly. They  also  had  done  a  little  shopping  in 
Quebec,  and  they  meant  to  do  more  at  Mon- 
treal before  they  returned  to  the  States.  Mrs. 
Ellison  was  disposed  to  look  upon  Isabel's 
compunctions  as  a  kind  of  treason  to  the  sex, 
to  be  forgiven  only  because  so  quickly  repented. 

The  Ellisons  were  going  up  the  Saguenay 
before  coming  on  to  Boston,  and  urged  our 
friends.hard  to  go  with  them.  "No,  that  must 
be  for  another  time,"  said  Isabel.  "  Mr.  March 
has  to  be  home  by  a  certain  day ;  and  we  shall 
just  get  back  in  season."  Then  she  made  them 
promise  to  spend  a  day  with  her  in  Boston,  and 
the  Colonel  coming  to  say  that  he  had  a  car- 
riage at  the  door  for  their  excursion  to  Lorette, 
the  two  parties  bade  good-by  with  affection  and 
many  explicit  hopes  of  meeting  soon  again. 

"What  do  you  think  of  them,  dearest?"  de- 
manded Isabel,  as  she  sallied  out  with  Basil  for 
a  final  look  at  Quebec, 

"The  young  lady  is  the  nicest  ;  and  the  other 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


is  well  enough,  too.  She  is  a  good  deal  like 
you,  but  with  the  sense  of  humor  left  out. 
You  've  only  enough  to  save  you." 

"Well,  her  husband  is  jolly  enough  for  both 
of  them.  He  's  funnier  than  you,  Basil,  and  he 
has  n't  any  of  your  little  languid  airs  and  affec- 
tations. I  don't  know  but  I  'm  a  bit  disap- 
pointed in  my  choice,  darling  ;  but  I  dare  say  I 
shall  work  out  of  it.  In  fact,  I  don't  know  but 
the  Colonel  is  a  little  too  jolly.  This  drolling 
everything  is  rather  fatiguing."  And  having 
begun,  they  did  not  stop  till  they  had  taken 
their  friends  to  pieces.  Dismayed,  then,  they 
hastily  reconstructed  them,  and  said  that  they 
were  among  the  pleasantest  people  they  ever 
knew,  and  they  were  really  very  sorry  to  part 
with  them,  and  they  should  do  everything  to 
make  them  have  a  good  time  in  Boston. 

They  were  sauntering  towards  Durham  Ter- 
race where  they  leaned  long  upon  the  iron 
parapet  and  blest  themselves  with  the  beauty 
of  the  prospect.  A  tender  haze  hung  upon  the 
landscape  and  subdued  it  till  the  scene  was  as 
a  dream  before  them.  As  in  a  dream  the  river 
lay,  and  dream-like  the  shipping  moved  or 
rested  on  its  deep,  broad  bosom.  Far  off 
stretched  the  happy  fields  with  their  dim  white 
villages  ;  farther  still  the  mellow  heights  melted 
into  the  low  hovering  heaven.  .  The  tinned 


Homeward  and  Home  351 

roofs  of  the  Lower  Town  twinkled  in  the  morn- 
ing sun ;  around  them  on  every  hand,  on  that 
Monday  forenoon  when  the  States  were  stir- 
ring from  ocean  to  ocean  in  feverish  industry, 
drowsed  the  gray  city  within  her  walls  ;  from 
the  flagstaff  of  the  citadel  hung  the  red  banner 
of  St.  George  in  sleep. 

Their  hearts  were  strangely  and  deeply 
moved.  It  seemed  to  them  that  they  looked 
upon  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Past,  and  that 
afar  off  to  the  southward  they  could  hear  the 
marching  hosts  of  the  invading  Present ;  and 
as  no  young  and  loving  soul  can  relinquish  old 
things  without  a  pang,  they  sighed  a  long  mute 
farewell  to  Quebec. 

Next  summer  they  would  come  again,  yes  ; 
but,  ah  me  !  every  one  knows  what  next  sum- 
mer is  ! 

Part  of  the  burlesque  troupe  rode  down  in 
the  omnibus  to  the  Grand  Trunk  Ferry  with 
them,  and  were  good-natured  to  the  last,  having 
shaken  hands  all  round  with  the  waiters,  cham- 
bermaids, and  porters  of  the  hotel.  The  young 
fellow  with  the  bad  amiable  face  came  in  a 
calash,  and  refused  to  over-pay  the  driver  with 
a  gay  decision  that  made  him  Basil's  envy  till 
he  saw  his  tribulation  in  getting  the  troupe's 
checked.  There  were  forty  pieces, 


35 2  Their  Wedding  Journey 

and  it  always  remained  a  mystery,  considering 
the  small  amount  of  clothing  necessary  to  those 
people  on  the  stage,  what  could  have  filled  their 
trunks.  The  young  man  and  the  two  English 
blondes  of  American  birth  found  places  in  the 
same  car  with  our  tourists,  and  enlivened  the 
journey  with  their  frolics.  When  the  young 
man  pretended  to  fall  asleep,  they  wrapped  his 
golden  curly  head  in  a  shawl,  and  vexed  him 
with  many  thumps  and  thrusts,  till  he  bought  a 
brief  truce  with  a  handful  of  almonds  ;  and  the 
ladies  having  no  other  way  to  eat  them,  one  of 
them  saucily  snatched  off  her  shoe,  and  cracked 
them  hammerwise  with  the  heel.  It  was  all  so 
pleasant  that  it  ought  to  have  been  all  right ; 
and  in  their  merry  world  of  outlawry  perhaps 
things  are  not  so  bad  as  we  like  to  think  them. 

The  country  into  which  the  train  plunges  as 
soon  as  Quebec  is  out  of  sight  is  very  stupidly 
savage,  and  our  friends  had  little  else  to  do  but 
to  watch  the  gambols  of  the  players,  till  they 
came  to  the  river  St.  Francis,  whose  wandering 
loveliness  the  road  follows  through  an  infinite 
series  of  soft  and  beautiful  landscapes,  and  finds 
everywhere  glassing  in  its  smooth  current  the 
elms  and  willows  of  its  gentle  shores.  At  one 
place,  where  its  calm  broke  into  foamy  rapids, 
there  was  a  huge  sawmill,  covering  the  stream 
with  logs  and  refuse,  and  the  banks  with  whole 


Homeri.vard  and  Home 


353 


cities  of  lumber;  which  also  they  accepted  as 
no  mean  elements  of  the  picturesque.  They 
clung  the  most  tenderly  to  traces  of  the  peasant 
life  they  were  leaving.  When  some  French 


The  Grecian  Portico 

boys  came  aboard  with  wild  raspberries  to  sell 
in  little  birch-bark  canoes,  they  thrilled  with 
pleasure,  and  bought  them,  but  sighed  then, 
and  said,  "  What  thing  characteristic  of  the 
local  life  will  they  sell  us  in  Maine  when  we  get 
there  ?  A  section  of  pie  poetically  wrapped  in 
a  broad  leaf  of  the  squash-vine,  or  pop-corn  in 


354  Their  Wedding  Journey. 

its  native  tissue-paper,  and  advertising  the  new 
Dollar  Store  in  Portland  ? "  They  saw  the 
quaintness  vanish  from  the  farmhouses ;  first 
the  dormer-windows,  then  the  curve  of  the  steep 
roof,  then  the  steep  roof  itself.  By  and  by  they 
came  to  a  store  with  a  Grecian  portico  and  four 
square  pine  pillars.  They  shuddered  and  looked 
no  more. 

The  guiltily  dreaded  examination  of  baggage 
at  Island  Pond  took  place  at  nine  o'clock,  with- 
out costing  them  a  cent  of  duty  or  a  pang  of 
conscience.  At  that  charming  station  the 
trunks  are  piled  higgledy-piggledy  into  a  room 
beside  the  track,  where  a  few  inspectors  with 
stifling  lamps  of  smoky  kerosene  await  the  pas- 
sengers. There  are  no  porters  to  arrange  the 
baggage,  and  each  lady  and  gentleman  digs  out 
his  box,  and  opens  it  before  the  lordly  inspector, 
who  stirs  up  its  contents  with  an  unpleasant 
hand  and  passes  it.  He  makes  you  feel  that 
you  are  once  more  in  the  land  of  official  inso- 
lence, and  that,  whatever  you  are  collectively, 
you  are  nothing  personally.  Isabel,  who  had 
sent  her  husband  upon  this  business  with  quak- 
ing meekness  of  heart,  experienced  the  bold  in- 
dignation of  virtue  at  his  account  of  the  way 
people  were  made  their  own  baggage-smashers, 
and  would  not  be  amused  when  he  painted  the 
vile  terrors  of  each  husband  as  he  tremblingly 
unlocked  his  wife's  store  of  contraband. 


Homeward  and  Home 


355 


The  morning  light  showed  them  the  broad 
elmy  meadows  of  western-looking  Maine  ;  and 
the  Grand  Trunk  brought  them,  of  course,  an 
hour  behind  time  into  Portland.  All  breakfast- 
less  they  hurried 
aboard  the  Boston 
train  on  the  East- 
ern Road,  and  all 
along  that  line 
(which  is  built  to 
show  how  uninter- 
esting the  earth 
can  be  when  she 
is  ennuyee  of  both 
sea  and  land),  Ba- 
sil's life  became  a 
struggle  to  con- 
struct a  meal  from 
the  fragmentary  opportunities  of  twenty  differ- 
ent stations  where  they  stopped  five  minutes 
for  refreshments.  At  one  place  he  achieved 
two  cups  of  shameless  chickory,  at  another 
three  sardines,  at  a  third  a  desert  of  elderly 
bananas. 

"  Home  again,  home  again,  from  a  foreign  shore  !  " 

they  softly  sang  as  the   successive  courses  of 
this  feast  were  disposed  of. 

The  drought  and  heat,  which  they  had  briefly 


Nearing  Home 


356  Their  Wedding  Journey 

escaped  during  their  sojourn  in  Canada,  brooded 
sovereign  upon  the  tiresome  landscape.  The 
red  granite  rocks  were  as  if  red-hot ;  the  banks 
of  the  deep  cuts  were^like  ash-heaps;  over  the 
fields  danced  the  sultry  atmosphere ;  they  fan- 
cied that  they  almost  heard  the  grasshoppers 
sing  above  the  rattle  of  the  train.  When  they 
reached  Boston  at  last,  they  were  dustier  than 
most  of  us  would  like  to  be  a  hundred  years 
hence.  The  whole  city  was  equally  dusty  ;  and 
they  found  the  trees  in  the  square  before  their 
own  door  gray  with  dust.  The  bit  of  Virginia 
creeper  planted  under  the  window  hung  shriv- 
eled upon  its  trellis. 

But  Isabel's  aunt  met  them  with  a  refreshing 
shower  of  tears  and  kisses  in  the  hall,  throwing 
a  solid  arm  about  each  of  them.  "  Oh,  you 
dears  !  "  the  good  soul  cried,  "  you  don't  know 
how  anxious  I  've  been  about  you ;  so  many 
accidents  happening  all  the  time.  I  Ve  never 
read  the  'Evening  Transcript'  till  the  next 
morning,  for  fear  I  should  find  your  names 
among  the  killed  and  wounded." 

"  Oh,  aunty,  you  're  too  good,  always  ! "  whim- 
pered Isabel ;  and  neither  of  the  women  took 
note  of  Basil,  who  said,  "  Yes,  it 's  probably  the 
only  thing  that  preserved  our  lives." 

The  little  tinge  of  discontent,  which  had  col- 
ored their  sentiment  of  return  faded  now  in  the 


Home  Again 


Homeward  and  Home  359 

kindly  light  of  home.  Their  holiday  was  over, 
to  be  sure,  but  their  bliss  had  but  begun  ;  they 
had  entered  upon  that  long  life  of  holidays 
which  is  happy  marriage.  By  the  time  dinner 
was  ended  they  were  both  enthusiastic  at  hav- 
ing got  back,  and  taking  their  aunt  between 
them  walked  up  and  down  the  parlor  with  their 
arms  round  her  massive  waist,  and  talked  out 
the  gladness  of  their  souls. 

Then  Basil  said  he  really  must  run  down  to 
the  office  that  afternoon,  and  he  issued  all 
aglow  upon  the  street.  He  was  so  full  of  hav- 
ing been  long  away  and  of  having  just  returned, 
that  he  unconsciously  tried  to  impart  his  mood 
to  Boston,  and  the  dusty  composure  of  the 
street  and  houses,  as  he  strode  along,  bewil- 
dered him.  He  longed  for  some  familiar  face 
to  welcome  him,  and  in  the  horse-car  into  which 
he  stepped  he  was  charmed  to  see  an  acquaint- 
ance. This  was  a  man  for  whom  ordinarily  he 
cared  nothing,  and  whom  he  would  perhaps 
rather  have  gone  out  upon  the  platform  to 
avoid  than  have  spoken  to ;  but  now  he  plunged 
at  him  with  effusion,  and  wrung  his  hand,  smil- 
ing from  ear  to  ear. 

The  other  remained  coldly  unaffected,  after 
a  first  start  of  surprise  at  his  cordiality,  and 
then  reviled  the  dust  and  heat.  "  But  I  'm 
going  to  take  a  little  run  down  to  Newport, 


360  Their  Wedding  Jomney 

to-morrow,  for  a  week,"  he  said.  "By  the 
way,  you  look  as  if  you  needed  a  little  change. 
Are  n't  you  going  anywhere  this  summer  ?  " 

"So  you  see,  my  dear/'  observed  Basil,  when 
he  had  recounted  the  fact  to  Isabel  at  tea,  "  our 
travels  are  incommunicably  our  own.  We  had 
best  say  nothing  about  our  little  jaunt  to  other 
people,  and  they  won't  know  we  've  been  gone. 
Even  if  we  tried  we  could  n't  make  our  wedding 
journey  theirs." 

She  gave  him  a  great  kiss  of  recompense  and 
consolation.  "  Who  wants  it,"  she  demanded, 
66  to  be  Their  Wedding  Journey  ?  " 


XI 


NIAGARA    REVISITED,    TWELVE    YEARS    AFTER 
THEIR    WEDDING   JOURNEY 

LIFE  had  not  used  them  ill  in  this  time,  and 
the  fairish  treatment  they  had  received  was  not 
wholly  unmerited.  The  twelve  years  past  had 
made  them  older,  as  the  years  must  in  passing. 
Basil  was  now  forty-two,  and  his  mustache  was 
well  sprinkled  with  gray.  Isabel  was  thirty- 
nine,  and  the  parting  of  her  hair  had  thinned 
and  retreated  ;  but  she  managed  to  give  it  an 
effect  of  youthful  abundance  by  combing  it  low 
down  upon  her  forehead,  and  roughing  it  there 
with  a  wet  brush.  By  gaslight  she  was  still 
very  pretty ;  she  believed  that  she  looked  more 
interesting,  and  she  thought  Basil's  gray  mus- 
tache distinguished.  He  had  grown  stouter ; 
he  filled  his  double-breasted  frock  coat  com- 
pactly, and  from  time  to  time  he  had  the  but- 
tons set  forward  ;  his  hands  were  rounded  up 
on  the  backs,  and  he  no  longer  wore  his  old 
number  of  gloves  by  two  sizes ;  no  amount  of 
powder  or  manipulation  from  the  young  lady  in 
the  shop  would  induce  them  to  go  on.  But 


362  Their  Wedding  Journey 

this  did  not  matter  much  now,  for  he  seldom 
wore  gloves  at  all.  He  was  glad  that  the 
fashion  suffered  him  to  spare  in  that  direction, 
for  he  was  obliged  to  look  somewhat  carefully 
after  the  out-goes.  The  insurance  business 
was  not  what  it  had  been,  and  though  Basil  had 
comfortably  established  himself  in  it,  he  had 
not  made  money.  He  sometimes  thought  that 
he  might  have  done  quite  as  well  if  he  had  gone 
into  literature ;  but  it  was  now  too  late.  They 
had  not  a  very  large  family :  they  had  a  boy  of 
eleven,  who  "took  after"  his  father,  and  a  girl 
of  nine,  who  took  after  the  boy;  but  with  the 
American  feeling  that  their  children  must  have 
the  best  of  everything,  they  made  it  an  expen- 
sive family,  and  they  spent  nearly  all  Basil 
earned. 

The  narrowness  of  their  means,  as  well  as 
their  household  cares,  had  kept  them  from  tak- 
ing many  long  journeys.  They  passed  their 
winters  in  Boston,  and  their  summers  on  the 
South  Shore,  —  cheaper  than  the  North  Shore, 
and  near  enough  for  Basil  to  go  up  and  down 
every  day  for  business ;  but  they  promised 
themselves  that  some  day  they  would  revisit 
certain  points  on  their  wedding  journey,  and 
perhaps  somewhere  find  their  lost  second-youth 
on  the  track.  It  was  not  that  they  cared  to  be 
young,  but  they  wished  the  children  to  see  them 


Niagara  Revisited  363 

as  they  used  to  be  when  they  thought  them- 
selves very  old;  and  one  lovely  afternoon  in 
June  they  started  for  Niagara. 

It  had  been  very  hot  for  several  days,  but 
that  morning  the  east  wind  came  in,  and  crisped 
the  air  till  it  seemed  to  rustle  like  tinsel,  and 
the  sky  was  as  sincerely  and  solidly  blue  as  if 
it  had  been  chromoed.  They  felt  that  they 
were  really  looking  up  into  the  roof  of  the 
world,  when  they  glanced  at  it ;  but  when  an 
old  gentleman  hastily  kissed  a  young  woman, 
and  commended  her  to  the  conductor  as  being 
one  who  was  going  all  the  way  to  San  Francisco 
alone,  and  then  risked  his  life  by  stepping  off 
the  moving  train,  the  vastness  of  the  great 
American  fact  began  to  affect  Isabel  disagree- 
ably. "  Is  n't  it  too  big,  Basil?"  she  pleaded, 
peering  timidly  out  of  the  little  municipal  con- 
sciousness in  which  she  had  been  so  long 
housed.  In  that  seclusion  she  had  suffered 
certain  original  tendencies  to  increase  upon 
her;  her  nerves  were  more  sensitive  and  elec- 
trical; her  apprehensions  had  multiplied  quite 
beyond  the  ratio  of  the  dangers  that  beset  her ; 
and  Basil  had  counted  upon  a  tonic  effect  of  the 
change  the  journey  would  make  in  their  daily 
lives.  She  looked  ruefully  out  of  the  window 
at  the  familiar  suburbs  whisking  out  of  sight, 
and  the  continental  immensity  that  advanced 


364  Their  Wedding  Journey 

devouringly  upon  her.  But  they  had  the  best 
section  in  the  very  centre  of  the  sleeping-car, 
—  she  drew  what  consolation  she  could  from 
the  fact,  — and  the  children's  premature  demand 
for  lunch  helped  her  to  forget  her  anxieties  ; 
they  began  to  be  hungry  as  soon  as  the  train 
started.  She  found  that  she  had  not  put  up 
sandwiches  enough  ;  and  when  she  told  Basil 
that  he  would  have  to  get  out  somewhere  and 
buy  some  cold  chicken,  he  asked  her  what  in 
the  world  had  become  of  that  whole  ham  she 
had  had  boiled.  It  seemed  to  him,  he  said,  that 
there  was  enough  of  it  to  subsist -them  to  Niag- 
ara and  back ;  and  he  went  on  as  some  men  do, 
while  Somerville  vanished,  and  even  Tufts  Col- 
lege, which"  assails  the  Bostonian  vision  from 
every  point  of  the  compass,  was  shut  out  by  the 
curve  at  the  foot  of  the  Belmont  hills. 

They  had  chosen  the  Hoosac  Tunnel  route  to 
Niagara,  because,  as  Basil  said,  their  experience 
of  travel  had  never  yet  included  a  very  long 
tunnel,  and  it  would  be  a  signal  fact  by  which 
the  children  would  always  remember  the  jour- 
ney, if  nothing  else  remarkable  happened  to  im- 
press it  upon  them.  Indeed,  they  were  so  much 
concerned  in  it  that  they  began  to  ask  when 
they  should  come  to  this  tunnel,  even  before 
they  began  to  ask  for  lunch  ;  and  the  long  time 
before  they  reached  it  was  not  perceptibly 


Niagara  Revisited 


365 


Beginning  the  Second  Journey 

shortened    by    Tom's    quarter-hourly    consulta- 
tions of  his  father's  watch. 

It  scarcely  seemed  to  Basil  and  Isabel  that 
their  fellow-passengers  were  so  interesting  as 
their  fellow-passengers  used  to  be  in  their 
former  days  of  travel.  They  were  soberly 
dressed,  and  were  all  of  a  middle-aged  sobriety 
of  deportment,  from  which  nothing  salient  of- 
fered itself  for  conjecture  or  speculation  ;  and 
there  was  little  within  the  car  to  take  their 
minds  from  the  brilliant  young  world  that 


366  Their  Wedding  Journey 

flashed  and  sang  by  them  outside.  The  belated 
spring  had  ripened,  with  its  frequent  rains,  into 
the  perfection  of  early  summer ;  the  grass  was 
thicker  and  the  foliage  denser  than  they  had 
ever  seen  it  before ;  and  when  they  had  run  out 
into  the  hills  beyond  Fitchburg,  they  saw  the 
laurel  in  bloom.  It  was  everywhere  in  the 
woods,  lurking  like  drifts  among  the  under- 
brush, and  overflowing  the  tops,  and  stealing 
down  the  hollows,  of  the  railroad  embankments  ; 
a  snow  of  blossom  flushed  with  a  mist  of  pink. 
Its  shy,  wild  beauty  ceased  whenever  the  train 
stopped,  but  the  orioles  made  up  for  its  absence 
with  their  singing  in  the  village  trees  about  the 
stations ;  and  though  Fitchburg  and  Ayer's 
Junction  and  Athol  are  not  names  that  invoke 
historical  or  romantic  associations,  the  hearts  of 
Basil  and  Isabel  began  to  stir  with  the  joy  of 
travel  before  they  had  passed  these  points.  At 
the  first  Basil  got  out  to  buy  the  cold  chicken 
which  had  been  commanded,  and  he  recognized 
in  the  keeper  of  the  railroad  restaurant  their 
former  conductor,  who  had  been  warned  by  the 
spirits  never  to  travel  without  a  flower  of  some 
sort  carried  between  his  lips,  and  who  had  pre- 
served his  own  life  and  the  lives  of  his  passen- 
gers for  many  years  by  this  simple  device.  His 
presence  lent  the  sponge  cake  and  rhubarb  pie 
and  baked  beans  a  supernatural  interest,  and 


Niagara  Revisited  367 

reconciled  Basil  to  the  toughness  of  the  athletic 
bird  which  the  mystical  ex-partner  of  fate  had 
sold  him ;  he  justly  reflected  that  if  he  had 
heard  the  story  of  the  restaurateur's  superstition 
in  a  foreign  land,  or  another  time,  he  would 
have  found  in  it  a  certain  poetry.  It  was  this 
willingness  to  find  poetry  in  things  around  them 
that  kept  his  life  and  Isabel's  fresh,  and  they 
taught  their  children  the  secret  of  their  elixir. 
To  be  sure,  it  was  only  a  genre  poetry,  but  it 
was  such  as  has  always  inspired  English  art 
and  song ;  and  now  the  whole  family  enjoyed, 
as  if  it  had  been  a  passage  from  Goldsmith  or 
Wordsworth,  the  flying  sentiment  of  the  rail- 
road side.  There  was  a  simple  interior  at  one 
place,  —  a  small  shanty,  showing  through  the 
open  door  a  cook -stove  surmounted  by  the 
evening  coffee-pot,  with  a  lazy  cat  outstretched 
upon  the  floor  in  the  middle  distance,  and  an 
old  woman  standing  just  outside  the  threshold 
to  see  the  train  go  by,  —  which  had  an  unri- 
valed value  till  they  came  to  a  superannuated 
car  on  a  siding  in  the  woods,  in  which  the  rail- 
road workmen  boarded  :  some  were  lounging 
on  the  platform  and  at  the  open  windows,  while 
others  were  "  washing  up  "  for  supper,  and  the 
whole  scene  was  full  of  holiday  ease  and  sylvan 
comradery  that  went  to  the  hearts  of  the  sym- 
pathetic spectators.  Basil  had  lately  been  read- 


368  Their  Wedding  Journey 


ing  aloud  the  delightful  history  of  Rudder 
Grange,  and  the  children,  who  had  made  their 
secret  vows  never  to  live  in  anything  but  an  old 
canal-boat  when  they  grew  up,  owned  that  there 
were  fascinating  possibilities  in  a  worn-out  rail- 
road car. 

The  lovely  Deerfield  Valley  began  to  open 
on  either  hand,  with  smooth  stretches  of  the 
quiet  river,  and  breadths  of  grassy  intervale 
and  tableland ;  the  elms  grouped  themselves 
like  the  trees  of  a  park ;  here  and  there  the 
nearer  hills  broke  away,  and  revealed  long, 
deep,  chasmed  hollows,  full  of  golden  light  and 
delicious  shadow.  There  were  people  rowing 
on  the  water ;  and  every  pretty  town  had  some 
touch  of  picturesqueness  or  pastoral  charm  to 
offer :  at  Greenfield,  there  were  children  play- 
ing in  the  new-mown  hay  along  the  railroad  em- 
bankment ;  at  Shelburne  Falls,  there  was  a 
game  of  cricket  going  on  (among  the  English 
operatives  of  the  cutlery  works,  as  Basil  boldly 
asserted).  They  looked  down  from  their  car- 
window  on  a  young  lady  swinging  in  a  ham- 
mock, in  her  door-yard,  and  on  an  old  gentle- 
man hoeing  his  potatoes  ;  a  group  of  girls  waved 
their  handkerchiefs  to  the  passing  train,  and  a 
boy  paused  in  weeding  a  garden-bed,  —  and  prob- 
ably denied  that  he  had  paused,  later.  In  the 
mean  time  the  golden  haze  along  the  mountain 


Niagara  Revisited  369 

side  changed  to  a  clear,  pearly  lustre,  and  the 
quiet  evening  possessed  the  quiet  landscape. 
They  confessed  to  each  other  that  it  was  all  as 
sweet  and  beautiful  as  it  used  to  be  ;  and  in 
fact  they  had  seen  palaces,  in  other  days,  which 
did  not  give  them  the  pleasure  they  found  in  a 
woodcutter's  shanty,  losing  itself  among  the 
shadows  in  a  solitude  of  the  hills.  The  tunnel, 
after  this,  was  a  gross  and  material  sensation  ; 
but  they  joined  the  children  in  trying  to  hold 
and  keep  it,  and  Basil  let  the  boy  time  it  by  his 
watch.  "  Now,"  said  Tom,  when  five  minutes 
were  gone,  "we  are  under  the  very  centre  of 
the  mountain."  But  the  tunnel  was  like  all 
accomplished  facts,  all  hopes  fulfilled,  valueless 
to  the  soul,  and  scarcely  appreciable  to  the 
sense ;  and  the  children  emerged  at  North 
Adams  with  but  a  mean  opinion  of  that  great 
feat  of  engineering.  Basil  drew  a  pretty  moral 
from  their  experience.  "  If  you  rode  upon  a 
comet  you  would  be  disappointed.  Take  my 
advice,  and  never  ride  upon  a  comet.  I  should  n't 
object  to  your  riding  on  a  little  meteor,  — you 
would  n't  expect  much  of  that ;  but  I  warn  you 
against  comets  ;  they  are  as  bad  as  tunnels." 

The  children  thought  this  moral  was  a  joke 
at  their  expense,  and  as  they  were  a  little  sleepy 
they  permitted  themselves  the  luxury  of  feeling 
trifled  with.  But  they  woke,  refreshed  and  en- 


37°  Their  Wedding  Journey 

couraged,  from  slumbers  that  had  evidently 
been  unbroken,  though  they  both  protested 
that  they  had  not  slept  a  wink  the  whole  night, 
and  gave  themselves  up  to  wonder  at  the  inter- 
minable levels  of  Western  New  York  over 
which  the  train  was  running.  The  longing  to 
come  to  an  edge,  somewhere,  that  the  New 
England  traveler  experiences  on  this  plain,  was 
inarticulate  with  the  children  ;  but  it  breathed 
in  the  sigh  with  which  Isabel  welcomed  even 
the  architectural  inequalities  of  a  city  into 
which  they  drew  in  the  early  morning.  This 
city  showed  to  their  weary  eyes  a  noble  stretch 
of  river,  from  the  waters  of  which  lofty  piles  of 
buildings  rose  abruptly ;  and  Isabel,  being  left 
to  guess  where  they  were,  could  think  of  no 
other  place  so  picturesque  as  Rochester. 

"Yes,"  said  her  husband;  "it  is  our  own  En- 
chanted City.  I  wonder  if  that  unstinted  hos- 
pitality is  still  dispensed  by  the  good  head 
waiter  at  the  hotel  where  we  stopped,  to  bridal 
parties  who  have  passed  the  ordeal  of  the 
haughty  hotel  clerk.  I  wonder  what  has  be- 
come of  that  hotel  clerk.  Has  he  fallen, 
through  pride,  to  some  lower  level,  or  has  he 
bowed  his  arrogant  spirit  to  the  demands  of  ad- 
vancing civilization,  and  realized  that  he  is  the 
servant,  and  not  the  master,  of  the  public  ?  I 
think  I  Ve  noticed,  since  his  time,  a  growing 


Niagara  Revisited 


371 


kindness  in  hotel  clerks  ;  or  perhaps  I  have  be- 
come of  a  more  impressive  presence  ;  they  cer- 
tainly unbend  to  me  a  little  more.  I  should 
like  to  go  up  to  our  hotel,  and  try  myself  on  our 
old  enemy,  if  he  is  still 
there.  I  can  fancy  how 
his  shirt  front  has  ex- 
panded in  these  twelve 
years  past ;  he  has 
grown  a  little  bald,  after 
the  fashion  of  middle- 
aged  hotel  clerks,  but 
he  parts  his  hair  very 
much  on  one  side,  and 
brushes  it  squarely 
across  his  forehead  to 
hide  his  loss  ;  the  fore- 
finger that  he  touches 
that  little  snap-bell 
with,  when  he  does 
n't  look  at  you,  must 
be  very  pudgy  now. 
Come,  let  us  get  out 
and  breakfast  at  Rochester ;  they  will  give  us 
broiled  whitefish  ;  and  we  can  show  the  children 
where  Sam  Patch  jumped  over  Genesee  Falls, 
and"  — 

"No,  no,  Basil,"  cried  his  wife.     "It  would 
be  sacrilege !     All  that  is  sacred  to  those  dear 


The  Same  Clerk 


37 2  Their  Wedding  Journey 


young  days  of  ours ;  and  I  would  n't  think  of 
trying  to  repeat  it.  Our  own  ghosts  would  rise 
up  in  that  dining-room  to  reproach  us  for  our 
intrusion  !  Oh,  perhaps  we  have  done  a  wicked 
thing  in  coming  this  journey!  We  ought  to 
have  left  the  past  alone ;  we  shall  only  mar  our 
memories  of  all  these  beautiful  places.  Do  you 
suppose  Buffalo  can  be  as  poetical  as  it  was 
then  ?  Buffalo  !  The  name  does  n't  invite  the 
Muse  very  much.  Perhaps  it  never  was  very 
poetical !  Oh,  Basil,  dear,  I  'm  afraid  we  have 
only  come  to  find  out  that  we  were  mistaken 
about  everything  !  Let 's  leave  Rochester  alone, 
at  any  rate  !  " 

"  I  'm  not  troubled  !  We  won't  disturb  our 
dream  of  Rochester;  but  I  don't  despair  of  Buf- 
falo. I  'm  sure  that  Buffalo  will  be  all  that  our 
fancy  ever  painted  it.  I  believe  in  Buffalo." 

"Well,  well,"  murmured  Isabel,  "I  hope 
you  're  right ; "  and  she  put  some  things  to- 
gether for  leaving  their  car  at  Buffalo,  while 
they  were  still  two  hours  away. 

When  they  reached  a  place  where  the  land 
mated  its  level  with  the  level  of  the  lake,  they 
ran  into  a  wilderness  of  railroad  cars,  in  a  world 
where  life  seemed  to  be  operated  solely  by  loco- 
motives and  their  helpless  minions.  The  bel- 
lowing and  bleating  trains  were  arriving  in 
every  direction,  not  only  along  the  ground  floor 


Niagara  Revisited  373 

of  the  plain,  but  stately  stretches  of  trestle- 
work,  which  curved  and  extended  across  the 
plain,  carried  them  to  and  fro  overhead.  The 
travelers  owned  that  this  railroad  suburb  had 
its  own  impressiveness,  and  they  said  that  the 
trestle-work  was  as  noble  in  effect  as  the  lines 
of  aqueduct  that  stalk  across  the  Roman  Cam- 
pagna.  Perhaps  this  was  because  they  had  not 
seen  the  Campagna  or  its  aqueducts  for  a  great 
while  ;  but  they  were  so  glad  to  find  themselves 
in  the  spirit  of  their  former  journey  again  that 
they  were  amiable  to  everything.  When  the 
children  first  caught  sight  of  the  lake's  delicious 
blue,  and  cried  out  that  it  was  lovelier  than  the 
sea,  they  felt  quite  a  local  pride  in  their  prefer- 
ence. It  was  what  Isabel  had  said  twelve  years 
before,  on  first  beholding  the  lake. 

But  they  did  not  really  see  the  lake  till  they 
hacl  taken  the  train  for  Niagara  Falls,  after 
breakfasting  in  the  depot,  where  the  children, 
used  to  the  severe  native  or  the  patronizing 
Irish  ministrations  of  Boston  restaurants  and 
hotels,  reveled  for  the  first  time  in  the  affec- 
tionate devotion  of  a  black  waiter.  There  was 
already  a  ridiculous  abundance  and  variety  on 
the  table ;  but  this  waiter  brought  them  straw- 
berries and  again  strawberries,  and  repeated 
plates  of  griddle  cakes  with  maple  syrup ;  and 
he  hung  over  the  back  of  first  one  chair  and 


374  Their  Wedding  Journey 

then  another  with  an  unselfish  joy  in  the  appe- 
tites of  the  breakfasters  which  gave  Basil  re- 
newed hopes  of  his  race.  "  Such  rapture  in 
serving  argues  a  largeness  of  nature  which  will 
be  recognized  hereafter,"  he  said,  feeling  about 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket  for  a  quarter.  It  seemed 
a  pity  to  render  the  waiter's  zeal  retroactively 
interested,  but  in  the  view  of  the  fact  that  he 
possibly  expected  the  quarter,  there  was  no- 
thing else  to  do ;  and  by  a  mysterious  stroke  of 
gratitude  the  waiter  delivered  them  into  the 
hands  of  a  friend,  who  took  another  quarter 
from  them  for  carrying  their  bags  and  wraps  to 
the  train.  This  second  retainer  approved  their 
admiration  of  the  aesthetic  forms  and  colors  of 
the  depot  colonnade ;  and  being  asked  if  that 
were  the  depot  whose  roof  had  fallen  in  some 
years  before,  proudly  replied  that  it  was. 

"There  were  a  great  many  killed,  wereVt 
there?"  asked  Basil,  with  sympathetic  satisfac- 
tion in  the  disaster.  The  porter  seemed  humil- 
iated ;  he  confessed  the  mortifying  truth  that 
the  loss  of  life  was  small,  but  he  recovered  a 
just  self-respect  in  adding,  "  If  the  roof  had 
fallen  in  five  minutes  sooner,  it  would  have 
killed  about  three  hundred  people." 

Basil  had  promised  the  children  a  sight  of 
the  Rapids  before  they  reached  the  Falls,  and 
they  held  him  rigidly  accountable  from  the 


Niagara  Revisited  375 

moment  they  entered  the  train  and  began  to 
run  out  of  the  city  between  the  river  and  the 
canal.  He  attempted  a  diversion  with  the  canal- 
boats,  and  tried  to  bring  forward  the  subject  of 
Rudder  Grange  in  that  connection.  They  said 
that  the  canal-boats  were  splendid,  but  they 
were  looking  for  the  Rapids  now  ;  and  they  de- 
clined to  be  interested  in  a  window  in  one  of 
the  boats,  which  Basil  said  was  just  like  the 
window  that  the  Rudder  Granger  and  the 
boarder  had  popped  Pomona  out  of  when  they 
took  her  for  a  burglar. 

"  You  spoil  those  children,  Basil,"  said  his 
wife,  as  they  clambered  over  him,  and  clamored 
for  the  Rapids. 

"At  present  I'm  giving  them  an  object- 
lesson  in  patience  and  self-denial ;  they  are 
experiencing  the  fact  that  they  can't  have  the 
Rapids  till  they  get  to  them,  and  probably 
they  '11  be  disappointed  in  them  when  they 
arrive." 

In  fact,  they  valued  the  Rapids  very  little 
more  than  the  Hoosac  Tunnel,  when  they  came 
in  sight  of  them,  at  last ;  and  Basil  had  some 
question  in  his  own  mind  whether  the  Rapids 
had  not  dwindled  since  his  former  visit.  He 
did  not  breathe  this  doubt  to  Isabel,  however, 
and  she  arrived  at  the  Falls  with  unabated  ex- 
pectations. They  were  going  to  spend  only 


376  Their  Wedding  Journey 


half  a  day  there  ;  and  they  turned  into  the  sta- 
tion, away  from  the  phalanx  of  omnibuses, 
when  they  dismounted  from  their  train.  They 
seemed,  as  before,  to  be  the  only  passengers 
who  had  arrived,  and  they  found  an  abundant 
choice  of  carriages  waiting  in  the  street,  outside 
the  station.  The  Niagara  hackman  may  once 
have  been  a  predatory  and  very  rampant  animal, 
but  public  opinion,  long  expressed  through  the 
public  prints,  has  reduced  him  to  silence  and 
meekness.  Apparently,  he  may  not  so  much 
as  beckon  with  his  whip  to  the  arriving  way- 
farer ;  it  is  certain  that  he  cannot  cross  the 
pavement  to  the  station  door  ;  and  Basil,  invit- 
ing one  of  them  to  negotiation,  was  himself  re- 
quired by  the  attendant  policeman  to  step  out 
to  the  curbstone,  and  complete  his  transaction 
there.  It  was  an  impressive  illustration  of  the 
power  of  a  free  press,  but  upon  the  whole  Basil 
found  the  effect  melancholy  ;  it  had  the  sadden- 
ing quality  which  inheres  in  every  sort  of  per- 
fection. The  hackman,  reduced  to  entire  order, 
appealed  to  his  compassion,  and  he  had  not  the 
heart  to  beat  him  down  from  his  moderate  first 
demand,  as  perhaps  he  ought  to  have  done. 

They  drove  directly  to  the  cataract,  and 
found  themselves  in  the  pretty  grove  beside  the 
American  Fall,  and  in  the  air  whose  dampness 
was  as  familiar  as  if  they  had  breathed  it  all 


Niagara  Revisited 


377 


their  childhood.  It  was  full  now  of  the  fra- 
grance of  some  sort  of  wild  blossom  ;  and  again 
they  had  that  old,  entrancing  sense  of  the 
mingled  awfulness  and  loveliness  of  the  great 
spectacle.  This  sylvan  perfume,  the  gayety  of 
the  sunshine,  the  mildness  of  the  breeze  that 


The  Parapet 

stirred  the  leaves  overhead,  and  the  bird-singing 
that  made  itself  heard  amid  the  roar  of  the 
Rapids  and  the  solemn  incessant  plunge  of  the 
cataract,  moved  their  hearts,  and  made  them 
children  with  the  boy  and  girl,  who  stood  rapt 
for  a  moment  and  then  broke  into  joyful  won- 
der. They  could  sympathize  with  the  ardor 
with  which  Tom  longed  to  tempt  fate  at  the 


Their  Wedding  Journey 


brink  of  the  river,  and  over  the  tops  of  the 
parapets  which  have  been  built  along  the  edge 
of  the  precipice,  and  they  equally  entered  into 
the  terror  with  which  Bella  screamed  at  his  sui- 
cidal zeal.  They  joined  her  in  restraining  him  ; 
they  reduced  him  to  a  beggarly  account  of  half 
a  dozen  stones,  flung  into  the  Rapids  at  not  less 
than  ten  paces  from  the  brink  ;  and  they  would 
not  let  him  toss  the  smallest  pebble  over  the 
parapet,  though  he  laughed  to  scorn  the  notion 
that  anybody  should  be  hurt  by  them  below. 

It  seemed  to  them  that  the  triviality  of  man 
in  the  surroundings  of  the  Falls  had  increased 
with  the  lapse  of  time.  There  were  more  booths 
and  bazars,  and  more  colored  feather  fans  with 
whole  birds  spitted  in  the  centres  ;  and  there 
was  an  offensive  array  of  blue  and  green  and 
yellow  glasses  on  the  shore,  through  which  you 
were  expected  to  look  at  the  Falls  gratis, 
They  missed  the  simple  dignity  of  the  blanch- 
ing Indian  maids,  who  used  to  squat  about  on 
the  grass,  with  their  laps  full  of  moccasins  and 
pin-cushions.  But,  as  of  old,  the  photographer 
came  out  of  his  saloon,  and  invited  them  to 
pose  for  a  family  group  ;  representing  that  the 
light  and  the  spray  were  singularly  propitious, 
and  that  everything  in  nature  invited  them  to 
be  taken.  Basil  put  him  off  gently,  for  the 
sake  of  the  time  when  he  had  refused  to  be 


Niagara  Revisited  379 

photographed  in  a  bridal  group,  and  took  ref- 
uge from  him  in  the  long  low  building  from, 
which  you  descend  to  the  foot  of  the  cataract. 

The  grove  beside  the  American  Fall  has  been 
inclosed,  and  named  Prospect  Park,  by  a  com- 
pany which  exacts  half  a  dollar  for  admittance, 
and  then  makes  you  free  of  all  its  wonders  and 
conveniences,  for  which  you  once  had  to  pay 
severally.  This  is  well  enough  ;  but  formerly 
you  could  refuse  to  go  down  the  inclined  tram- 
way, and  now  you  cannot  without  feeling  that 
you  have  failed  to  get  your  money's  worth.  It 
was  in  this  illogical  spirit  of  economy  that  Basil 
invited  his  family  to  the  descent  ;  but  Isabel 
shook  her  head.  "  No,  you  go  with  the  chil- 
dren," she  said,  "and  I  will  stay  here  till  you 
get  back;"  her  agonized  countenance  added, 
"and  pray  for  you;"  and  Basil  took  his  chil- 
dren on  either  side  of  him,  and  rumbled  down 
the  terrible  descent  with  much  of  the  excite- 
ment that  attends  travel  in  an  open  horse-car. 
When  he  stepped  out  of  the  car  he  felt  that  in- 
crease of  courage  which  comes  to  every  man 
after  safely  passing  through  danger.  He  re- 
solved to  brave  the  mists  and  slippery  stones  at 
the  foot  of  the  Fall ;  and  he  would  have  plunged 
at  once  into  this  fresh  peril  if  he  had  not  been 
prevented  by  the  Prospect  Park  Company. 
This  ingenious  association  has  built  a  large 


380  Their  Wedding  Journey 


tunnel-like  shed  quite  to  the  water's  edge,  so 
that  you  cannot  view  the  cataract  as  you  once 
could,  at  a  reasonable  remoteness,  but  must 
emerge  from  the  building  into  a  storm  of  spray. 
The  roof  of  the  tunnel  is  painted  with  a  lively 
effect  in  party-colored  stripes,  and  is  lettered 
"The  Shadow  of  the  Rock,"  so  that  you  take 
it  at  first  to  be  an  appeal  to  your  aesthetic 
sense ;  but  the  real  object  of  the  company  is 
not  apparent  till  you  put  your  head  out  into  the 
tempest,  when  you  agree  with  the  nearest  guide 
—  and  one  is  always  very  near — that  you  had 
better  have  an  oil-skin  dress,  as  Basil  did.  He 
told  the  guide  that  he  did  not  wish  to  go  under 
the  Fall,  and  the  guide  confidentially  admitted 
that  there  was  no  fun  in  that,  anyway ;  and  in 
the  mean  time  he  equipped  him  and  his  chil- 
dren for  their  foray  into  the  mist.  When  they 
issued  forth,  under  their  friend's  leadership,  Basil 
felt  that,  with  his  children  clinging  to  each 
hand,  he  looked  like  some  sort  of  animal  with 
its  young,  and,  though  not  unsocial  by  nature, 
he  was  glad  to  be  among  strangers  for  the  time. 
They  climbed  hither  and  thither  over  the  rocks, 
and  lifted  their  streaming  faces  for  the  views 
which  the  guide  pointed  out ;  and  in  a  rift 
of  the  spray  they  really  caught  one  glorious 
glimpse  of  the  whole  sweep  of  the  Fall.  The 
next  instant  the  spray  swirled  back,  and  they 


Niagara  Revisited  381 

were  glad  to  turn  for  a  sight  of  the  rainbow, 
lying  in  a  circle  on  the  rocks  as  quietly  and 
naturally  as  if  that  had  been  the  habit  of  rain- 
bows ever  since  the  flood.  This  was  all  there 
was  to  be  done,  and  they  streamed  back  into 
the  tunnel,  where  they  disrobed  in  the  face  of 
a  menacing  placard,  which  announced  that  the 
hire  of  a  guide  and  a  dress  for  going  under  the 
Fall  was  one  dollar. 

"  Will  they  make  you  pay  a  dollar  for  each  of 
us,  papa  ? "  asked  Tom,  fearfully. 

"  Oh,  pooh,  no  !  "  returned  Basil ;  "  we  have  n't 
been  under  the  Fall."  But  he  sought  out  the 
proprietor  with  a  trembling  heart.  The  pro- 
prietor was  a  man  of  severely  logical  mind  ;  he 
said  that  the  charge  would  be  three  dollars,  for 
they  had  had  the  use  of  the  dresses  and  the 
guide  just  the  same  as  if  they  had  gone  under 
the  Fall ;  and  he  refused  to  recognize  anything 
misleading  in  the  dressing-room  placard.  In 
fine,  he  left  Basil  without  a  leg  to  stand  upon. 
It  was  not  so  much  the  three  dollars  as  the 
sense  of  having  been  swindled  that  vexed  him  ; 
and  he  instantly  resolved  not  to  share  his  an- 
noyance with  Isabel.  Why,  indeed,  should  he 
put  that  burden  upon  her  ?  If  she  were  none 
the  wiser,  she  would  be  none  the  poorer  ;  and 
he  ought  to  be  willing  to  deny  himself  her  sym- 
pathy for  the  sake  of  sparing  her  needless  pain. 


.382  Their  Wedding  Journey 

He  met  her  at  the  top  of  the  inclined  tram- 
way with  a  face  of  exemplary  unconsciousness, 
and  he  listened  with  her  to  the  tale  their  coach- 
man told,  as  they  sat  in  a  pretty  arbor  looking 
out  on  the  Rapids,  of  a  Frenchman  and  his 
wife.  This  Frenchman  had  returned,  one  morn- 
ing, from  a  stroll  on  Goat  Island,  and  reported 
with  much  apparent  concern  that  his  wife  had 
fallen  into  the  water,  and  been  carried  over  the 
Fall.  It  was  so  natural  for  a  man  to  grieve  for 
the  loss  of  his  wife,  under  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances, that  every  one  condoled  with  the  wid- 
ower ;  but  when,  a  few  days  later,  her  body  was 
found,  and  the  distracted  husband  refused  to 
come  back  from  New  York  to  her  funeral,  there 
was  a  general  regret  that  he  had  not  been  ar- 
rested. A  flash  of  conviction  illumed  the  whole 
fact  to  Basil's  guilty  consciousness  :  this  un- 
happy Frenchman  had  paid  a  dollar  for  the  use 
of  an  oil-skin  suit  at  the  foot  of  the  Fall,  and 
had  been  ashamed  to  confess  the  swindle  to  his 
wife,  till,  in  a  moment  of  remorse  and  madness, 
he  shouted  the  fact  into  her  ear,  and  then  — 

Basil  looked  at  the  mother  of  his  children, 
and  registered  a  vow  that  if  he  got  away  from 
Niagara  without  being  forced  to  a  similar  ex- 
cess he  would  confess  his  guilt  to  Isabel  at  the 
very  first  act  of  spendthrift  profusion  she  com- 
mitted. The  guide  pointed  out  the  rock  in  the 


Niagara  Revisited  383 

Rapids  to  which  Avery  had  clung  for  twenty- 
four  hours  before  he  was  carried  over  the  Falls, 
and  to  the  morbid  fancy  of  the  deceitful  hus- 
band Isabel's  bonnet  ribbons  seemed  to  flutter 
from  the  pointed  reef.  He  could  endure  the 
pretty  arbor  no  longer.  "  Come,  children  ! " 
he  cried,  with  a  wild,  unnatural  gayety ;  "  let  us 
go  to  Goat  Island,  and  see  the  Bridge  to  the 
Three  Sisters,  that  your  mother  was  afraid  to 
walk  back  on  after  she  had  crossed  it." 

"  For  shame,  Basil !  "  retorted  Isabel.  "You 
know  it  was  you  who  were  afraid  of  that  bridge." 

The  children,  who  knew  the  story  by  heart, 
laughed  with  their  father  at  the  monstrous  pre- 
tension ;  and  his  simulated  hilarity  only  in- 
creased upon  paying  a  toll  of  two  dollars  at  the 
Goat  Island  bridge. 

"  What  extortion  !  "  cried  Isabel,  with  an  in- 
dignation that  secretly  unnerved  him.  He 
trembled  upon  the  verge  of  confession  ;  but  he 
had  finally  the  moral  force  to  resist.  He  suf- 
fered her  to  compute  the  cost  of  their  stay  at 
Niagara  without  allowing  those  three  dollars  to 
enter  into  her  calculation  ;  he  even  began  to 
think  what  justificative  extravagance  he  could 
tempt  her  to.  He  suggested  the  purchase  of 
local  bricabrac ;  he  asked  her  if  she  would 
not  like  to  dine  at  the  International,  for  old 
times'  sake.  But  she  answered,  with  disheart- 


384  Their  Wedding  Jotirney 

ening  virtue,  that  they  must  not  think  of  such 
a  thing,  after  what  they  had  spent  already. 
Nothing,  perhaps,  marked  the  confirmed  hus- 
band in  Basil  more  than  these  hidden  fears  and 
reluctances. 

In  the  mean  time  Isabel  ignorantly  aban- 
doned herself  to  the  charm  of  the  place,  which 
she  found  unimpaired  in  spite  of  the  re- 
ported ravages  of  improvement  about  Niagara. 
Goat  Island  was  still  the  sylvan  solitude  of 
twelve  years  ago,  haunted  by  even  fewer 
nymphs  and  dryads  than  of  old.  The  air  was 
full  of  the  perfume  that  scented  it  at  Prospect 
Park ;  the  leaves  showered  them  with  shade 
and  sun,  as  they  drove  along.  "  If  it  were  not 
for  the  children  here,"  she  said,  "  I  should  think 
that  our  first  drive  on  Goat  Island  had  never 
ended." 

She  sighed  a  little,  and  Basil  leaned  for- 
ward and  took  her  hand  in  his.  "  It  never 
has  ended  ;  it 's  the  same  drive  ;  only  we  are 
younger  now,  and  enjoy  it  more."  It  always 
touched  him  when  Isabel  was  sentimental  about 
the  past,  for  the  years  had  tended  to  make  her 
rather  more  seriously  maternal  towards  him 
than  towards  the  other  children  ;  and  he  recog- 
nized that  these  fond  reminiscences  were  the 
expression  of  the  girlhood  still  lurking  deep 
within  her  heart. 


Niagara  Revisited  385 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  but  I  'm  willing 
the  children  should  be  young  in  our  place.  It 's 
only  fair  they  should  have  their  turn." 

She  remained  in  the  carriage,  while  Basil 
visited  the  various  points  of  view  on  Luna 
Island  with  the  boy  and  girl.  A  boy  is  prob- 
ably of  considerable  interest  to  himself,  and  a 
man  looks  back  at  his  own  boyhood  with  some 
pathos.  But  in  his  actuality  a  boy  has  very 
little  to  commend  him  to  the  toleration  of  other 
human  beings.  Tom  was  very  well,  as  boys 
go  ;  but  now  his  contribution  to  the  common 
enjoyment  was  to  venture  as  near  as  possible 
to  all  perilous  edges ;  to  throw  stones  into  the 
water,  and  to  make  as  if  to  throw  them  over 
precipices  on  the  people  below  ;  to  pepper  his 
father  with  questions,  and  to  collect  cumbrous 
mementos  of  the  vegetable  and  mineral  king- 
doms. He  kept  the  carnage  waiting  a  good 
five  minutes,  while  he  could  cut  his  initials  on  a 
hand-rail.  "You  can  come  back  and  see  'em 
on  your  bridal  tower,"  said  the  driver.  Isabel 
gave  a  little  start,  as  if  she  had  almost  thought 
of  something  she  was  trying  to  think  of. 

They  occasionally  met  ladies  driving,  and 
sometimes  they  encountered  a  couple  making  a 
tour  of  the  island  on  foot.  But  none  of  these 
people  were  young,  and  Basil  reported  that  the 
Three  Sisters  were  inhabited  only  by  persons 


386 


Their  Wedding  Journey. 


Cutting  his  Initials 

of  like  maturity;  even  a  group  of  people  who 
were  eating  lunch  to  the  music  of  the  shouting 
Rapids,  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  last  Sister, 
were  no  younger,  apparently. 

Isabel  did  not  get  out  of  the  carriage  to  verify 
his  report ;  she  preferred  to  refute  his  story  of 
her  former  panic  on  those  islands  by  remaining 
serenely  seated  while  he  visited  them.  She 
thus  lost  a  superb  novelty  which  nature  has 


Niagara  Revisited  387 


lately  added  to  the  wonders  of  this  Fall,  in  that 
place  at  the  edge  of  the  great  Horse  -  Shoe 
where  the  rock  has  fallen  and  left  a  peculiarly 
shaped  chasm  :  through  this  the  spray  leaps  up 
from  below,  and  flashes  a  hundred  feet  into  the 
air,  in  rocket-like  jets  and  points  and  then 
breaks  and  dissolves  away  in  the  pyrotechnic 
curves  of  a  perpetual  Fourth  of  July.  Basil 
said  something  like  this  in  celebrating  the  dis- 
play, with  the  purpose  of  rendering  her  loss 
more  poignant  ;  but  she  replied,  with  tranquil 
piety,  that  she  would  rather  keep  her  Niagara 
unchanged  ;  and  she  declared  that,  as  she  un- 
derstood him,  there  must  be  something  rather 
cheap  and  conscious  in  the  new  feature.  She 
approved,  however,  of  the  change  that  had  re- 
moved that  foolish  little  Terrapin  Tower  from 
the  brink  on  which  it  stood,  and  she  confessed 
that  she  could  have  enjoyed  a  little  variety  in 
the  stories  the  driver  told  them  of  the  Indian 
burial-ground  on  the  island :  they  were  exactly 
the  stories  she  and  Basil  had  heard  twelve 
years  before,  and  the  ill  -  starred  goats,  from 
which  the  island  took  its  name,  perished  once 
more  in  his  narrative. 

Under  the  influence  of  his  romances  our 
travelers  began  to  find  the  whole  scene  hack- 
neyed ;  and  they  were  glad  to  part  from  him 
a  little  sooner  than  they  had  bargained  to  do. 


388  Their  Wedding  Journey 

They  strolled  about  the  anomalous  village  on 
foot,  and  once  more  marveled  at  the  paucity  of 
travel  and  the  enormity  of  the  local  preparation. 
Surely  the  hotels  are  nowhere  else  in  the  world 
so  large  !  Could  there  ever  have  been  visitors 
enough  at  Niagara  to  fill  them  ?  They  were 
built  so  big  for  some  good  reason,  no  doubt; 
but  it  was  no  more  apparent  than  why  all  these 
magnificent  equipages  are  waiting  about  the 
empty  streets  for  the  people  who  never  come 
to  hire  them. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  don't  see  so  many 
strangers  here  as  I  used,"  Basil  had  suggested 
to  their  driver. 

"  Oh,  they  have  n't  commenced  coming  yet," 
he  replied,  with  hardy  cheerfulness,  and  pre- 
tended that  they  were  plenty  enough  in  July 
and  August. 

They  went  to  dine  at  the  modest  restaurant 
of  a  colored  man,  who  advertised  a  table  d'hote 
dinner  on  a  board  at  his  door ;  and  they  put 
their  misgivings  to  him,  which  seemed  to  grieve 
him,  and  he  contended  that  Niagara  was  as 
prosperous  and  as  much  resorted  to  as  ever.  In 
fact,  they  observed  that  their  regret  for  the 
supposed  decline  of  the  Falls  as  a  summer  re- 
sort was  nowhere  popular  in  the  village,  and 
they  desisted  in  their  offers  of  sympathy,  after 
their  rebuff  from  the  restaurateur. 


Niagara  Revisited 


389 


Basil  got  his  family  away  to  the  station  after 
dinner,  and  left  them  there,  while  he  walked 
down  the  village  street,  for  a  closer  inspection 
of  the  hotels.  At  the  door  of  the  largest  a 
pair  of  children  sported  in  the  solitude,  as  fear- 


Out  of  Season 

lessly  as  the  birds  on  Selkirk's  island  ;  looking 
into  the  hotel,  he  saw  a  few  porters  and  call- 
boys  seated  in  statuesque  repose  against  the 
wall,  while  the  clerk  pined  in  dreamless  inactiv- 
ity behind  the  register  ;  some  deserted  ladies 
flitted  through  the  door  of  the  parlor  at  the 
side.  He  recalled  the  evening  of  his  former 


39°  Their  Wedding  Journey 

visit,  when  he  and  Isabel  had  met  the  Ellisons 
in  that  parlor,  and  it  seemed,  in  the  retrospect, 
a  scene  of  the  wildest  gayety.  He  turned  for 
consolation  into  the  barber's  shop,  where  he 
found  himself  the  only  customer,  and  no  busy 
sound  of  "  Next "  greeted  his  ear.  But  the 
barber,  like  all  the  rest,  said  that  Niagara  was 
not  unusually  empty ;  and  he  came  out  feeling 
bewildered  and  defrauded.  Surely  the  agent 
of  the  boats  which  descend  the  Rapids  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  must  be  frank,  if  Basil  went  to 
him  and  pretended  that  he  was  going  to  buy  a 
ticket.  But  a  glance  at  the  agent's  sign  showed 
Basil  that  the  agent,  with  his  brave  jollity  of 
manner  and  his  impressive  "  GW</-morning," 
had  passed  away  from  the  deceits  of  travel,  and 
that  he  was  now  inherited  by  his  widow,  who 
in  turn  was  absent,  and  temporarily  represented 
by  their  son.  The  boy,  in  supplying  Basil  with 
an  advertisement  of  the  line,  made  a  specious 
show  of  haste,  as  if  there  were  a  long  queue  of 
tourists  waiting  behind  him  to  be  served  with 
tickets.  Perhaps  there  was,  indeed,  a  spectral 
line  there,  but  Basil  was  the  only  tourist  present 
in  the  flesh,  and  he  shivered  in  his  isolation, 
and  fled  with  the  advertisement  in  his  hand. 
Isabel  met  him  at  the  door  of  the  station  with 
a  frightened  face. 

"  Basil,"  she  cried,  "  I  have  found  out  what 
the  trouble  is  !      Where  are  the  brides  ?  " 


Niagara  Revisited 


39 1 


"  Where  are  the  brides  ?  " 

He  took  her  outstretched  hands  in  his,  and 
passing  one  of  them  through  his  arm  walked 
with  her  apart  from  the  children,  who  were  ex- 
amining at  the  news-man's  booth  the  moccasins 
and  the  birch-bark  bricabrac  of  the  Irish  abo- 
rigines, and  the  cups  and  vases  of  Niagara  spar 
imported  from  Devonshire. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  there  are  no  brides  ; 
everybody  was  married  twelve  years  ago,  and 
the  brides  are  middle-aged  mothers  of  families 
now,  and  don't  come  to  Niagara  if  they  are 
wise." 


392  Their  Wedding  Journey 

"Yes,"  she  desolately  asserted,  "that  is  so! 
Something  has  been  hanging  over  me  ever 
since  we  came,  and  suddenly  I  realized  that  it 
was  the  absence  of  the  brides.  But  —  but  — 
Down  at  the  hotels  —  Did  n't  you  see  anything 
bridal  there?  When  the  omnibuses  arrived, 
was  there  no  burst  of  minstrelsy?  Was 
there  "  — 

She  could  not  go  on,  but  sank  nervelessly  in- 
to the  nearest  seat. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Basil,  dreamily  regarding  the 
contest  of  Tom  and  Bella  for  a  newly-purchased 
paper  of  sour  cherries,  and  helplessly  forecast- 
ing in  his  remoter  mind  the  probable  conse- 
quences, "there  were  both  brides  and  minstrelsy 
at  the  hotel,  if  I  had  only  had  the  eyes  to  see 
and  the  ears  to  hear.  In  this  world,  my  dear, 
we  are  always  of  our  own  time,  and  we  live 
amid  contemporary  things.  I  dare  say  there 
were  middle-aged  people  at  Niagara  when  we 
were  here  before,  but  we  did  not  meet  them, 
nor  they  us.  I  dare  say  that  the  place  is  now 
swarming  with  bridal  couples,  and  it  is  because 
they  are  invisible  and  inaudible  to  us  that  it 
seems  such  a  howling  wilderness.  But  the  ho- 
tel clerks  and  the  restaurateurs  and  the  hack- 
men  know  them,  and  that  is  the  reason  why 
they  receive  with  surprise  and  even  offense  our 
sympathy  for  their  loneliness.  Do  you  suppose, 


Niagara  Revisited  393 

Isabel,  that  if  you  were  to  lay  your  head  on  my 
shoulder,  in  a  bridal  manner,  it  would  do  any- 
thing to  bring  us  en  rapport  with  that  lost 
bridal  world  again  ?  " 

Isabel  caught  away  her  hand.  "  Basil,"  she 
cried,  "it  would  be  disgusting!  I  wouldn't  do 
it  for  the  world  —  not  even  for  that  world.  I 
saw  one  middle-aged  couple  on  Goat  Island, 
while  you  were  down  at  the  Cave  of  the  Winds, 
or  somewhere,  with  the  children.  They  were 
sitting  on  some  steps,  he  a  step  below  her,  and 
he  seemed  to  want  to  put  his  head  on  her  knee ; 
but  I  gazed  at  him  sternly,  and  he  did  n't  dare. 
We  should  look  like  them,  if  we  yielded  to  any 
outburst  of  affection.  Don't  you  think  we 
should  look  like  them  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Basil.  "  You  are  cer- 
tainly a  little  wrinkled,  my  dear." 

"  And  you  are  very  fat,  Basil." 

They  glanced  at  each  other  with  a  flash  of  re- 
sentment, and  then  they  both  laughed.  "We 
could  n't  look  young  if  we  quarreled  a  week," 
he  said.  "We  had  better  content  ourselves 
with  feeling  young,  as  I  hope  we  shall  do  if  we 
live  to  be  ninety.  It  will  be  the  loss  of  others 
if  they  don't  see  our  bloom  upon  us.  Shall  I  get 
you  a  paper  of  cherries,  Isabel  ?  The  children 
seem  to  be  enjoying  them." 

Isabel  sprang  upon  her  offspring  with  a  cry 


394  Their  Wedding  Journey 

of  despair.  "  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  ?  Now  we 
shall  not  have  a  wink  of  sleep  with  them  to- 
night. Where  is  that  mix?"  She  hunted  for 
the  medicine  in  her  bag,  and  the  children  sub- 
mitted ;  for  they  had  eaten  all  the  cherries,  and 
they  took  their  medicine  without  a  murmur. 
"  I  wonder  at  your  letting  them  eat  the  sour 
things,  Basil,"  said  their  mother,  when  the  chil- 
dren had  run  off  to  the  news-stand  again. 

"I  wonder  that  you  left  me  to  see  what  they 
were  doing,"  promptly  retorted  their  father. 

"It  was  your  nonsense  about  the  brides,"  said 
Isabel ;  "  and  I  think  this  has  been  a  lesson  to 
us.  Dorit  let  them  get  anything  else  to  eat, 
dearest." 

"  They  are  safe  ;  they  have  no  more  money. 
They  are  frugally  confining  themselves  to  the 
admiration  of  the  Japanese  bows  and  arrows 
yonder.  Why  have  our  Indians  taken  to  making 
Japanese  bows  and  arrows  ?" 

Isabel  despised  the  small  pleasantry.  "  Then 
you  saw  nobody  at  the  hotel  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Not  even  the  Ellisons,"  ^said  Basil. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Isabel ;  "  that  was  where  we 
met  them.  How  long  ago  it  seems  !  And  poor 
little  -Kitty !  I  wonder  what  has  become  of 
them  ?  But  I  'm  glad  they  're  not  here.  That's 
what  makes  you  realize  your  age  :  meeting  the 
same  people  in  the  same  place  a  great  while 


Niagara  Revisited  395 


after,  and  seeing  how  old  they  've  grown.  I 
don't  think  I  could  bear  to  see  Kitty  Ellison 
again.  I'm  glad  she  didn't  come  to  visit  us 
in  Boston,  though,  after  what  happened,  she 
could  n't,  poor  thing!  I  wonder  if  she's  ever 
regretted  her  breaking  with  him  in  the  way  she 
did.  It 's  a  very  painful  thing  to  think  of,  — 
such  an  inconclusive  conclusion ;  it  always 
seemed  as  if  they  ought  to  meet  again,  some- 
where." 

"I  don't  believe  she  ever  wished  it." 

"  A  man  can't  tell  what  a  woman  wishes." 

"Well,  neither  can  a  woman,"  returned  Basil, 
lightly. 

His  wife  remained  serious.  "  It  was  a  very 
fine  point,  — a  very  little  thing  to  reject  a  man 
for.  I  felt  that  when  I  first  read  her  letter 
about  it." 

Basil  yawned.  "  I  don't  believe  I  ever  knew 
just  what  the  point  was." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  did  ;  but  you  forget  everything. 
You  know  that  they  met  two  Boston  ladies  just 
after  they  were  engaged,  and  she  believed  that 
he  did  n't  introduce  her  because  he  was  ashamed 
of  her  countrified  appearance  before  them." 

"  It  was  a  pretty  fine  point,"  said  Basil,  and 
he  laughed  provokingly. 

"  He  might  not  have  meant  to  ignore  her," 
answered  Isabel  thoughtfully  ;  "  he  might  have 


396  Their  Wedding  Journey 

chosen  not  to  introduce  her  because  he  felt  too 
proud  of  her  to  subject  her  to  any  possible  mis- 
appreciation  from  them.  You  might  have  looked 
at  it  in  that  way." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  look  at  it  in  that  way  ?  You 
advised  her  against  giving  him  another  chance. 
Why  did  you  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  "  Isabel  repeated,  absently.  "  Oh,  a 
woman  does  n't  judge  a  man  by  what  he  does, 
but  by  what  he  is  !  I  knew  that  if  she  dismissed 
him  it  was  because  she  never  really  had  trusted 
or  could  trust  his  love  ;  and  I  thought  she  had 
better  not  make  another  trial." 

"  Well,  very  possibly  you  were  right.  At 
any  rate,  you  have  the  consolation  of  knowing 
that  it 's  too  late  to  help  it  now." 

"Yes,  it's  too  late,"  said  Isabel;  and  her 
thoughts  went  back  to  her  meeting  with  the 
young  girl  whom  she  had  liked  so  much,  and 
whose  after  history  had  interested  her  so  pain- 
fully. It  seemed  to  her  a  hard  world  that 
could  come  to  nothing  better  than  that  for  the 
girl  whom  she  had  seen  in  her  first  glimpse  of 
it  that  night.  Where  was  she  now?  What 
had  become  of  her  ?  If  she  had  married  that 
man,  would  she  have  been  any  happier  ?  Mar- 
riage was  not  the  poetic  dream  of  perfect  union 
that  a  girl  imagines  it ;  she  herself  had  found 
that  out.  It  was  a  state  of  trial,  of  probation  ; 


Niagara  Revisited  397 

it  was  an  ordeal,  not  an  ecstasy.  If  she  and 
Basil  had  broken  each  other's  hearts  and  parted, 
would  not  the  fragments  of  their  lives  have 
been  on  a  much  finer,  much  higher  plane  ? 
Had  not  the  commonplace,  every-day  experi- 
ences of  marriage  vulgarized  them  both  ?  To 
be  sure,  there  were  the  children ;  but  if  they 
had  never  had  the  children,  she  would  never 
have  missed  them  ;  and  if  Basil  had,  for  ex- 
ample, died  just  before  they  were  married  — 
She  started  from  this  wicked  reverie,  and  ran 
towards  her  husband,  whose  broad,  honest 
back,  with  no  visible  neck  or  shirt-collar,  was 
turned  towards  her,  as  he  stood,  with  his  head 
thrown  up,  studying  a  time-table  on  the  wall ; 
she  passed  her  arm  convulsively  through  his, 
and  pulled  him  away. 

"  It  's  time  to  be  getting  our  bags  out  to  the 
train,  Basil !  Come,  Bella!  Tom,  we  're  going  !  " 

The  children  reluctantly  turned  from  the 
news-man's  trumpery,  and  they  all  went  out  to 
the  track,  and  took  seats  on  the  benches  under 
the  colonnade.  While  they  waited,  the  train 
for  Buffalo  drew  in,  and  they  remained  watch- 
ing it  till  it  started.  In  the  last  car  that  passed 
them,  when  it  was  fairly  under  way,  a  face 
looked  full  at  Isabel  from  one  of  the  windows. 
In  that  moment  of  astonishment  she  forgot  to 
observe  whether  it  was  sad  or  glad ;  she  only 


398  Their  Wedding  Journey 

saw,  or  believed  she  saw,  the  light  of  recogni- 
tion dawn  into  its  eyes,  and  then  it  was  gone. 

"Basil!"  she  cried,  "stop  the  train!  That 
was  Kitty  Ellison  !  " 

"Oh  no,  it  wasn't,"  said  Basil  easily.  "It 
looked  like  her ;  but  it  looked  at  least  ten  years 
older." 

"  Why,  of  course  it  was !  We  're  all  ten 
years  older,"  returned  his  wife  in  such  indigna- 
tion at  his  stupidity  that  she  neglected  to  insist 
upon  his  stopping  the  train,  which  was  rapidly 
diminishing  in  the  perspective. 

He  declared  it  was  only  a  fancied  resem- 
blance ;  she  contended  that  this  was  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Eriecreek,  and  it  must  be 
Kitty  ;  and  thus  one  of  their  most  inveterate 
disagreements  began. 

Their  own  train  drew  into  the  depot,  and 
they  disputed  upon  the  fact  in  question  till  they 
entered  on  the  passage  of  the  Suspension 
Bridge.  Then  Basil  rose  and  called  the  chil- 
dren to  his  side.  On  the  left  hand,  far  up  the 
river,  the  great  Fall  shows,  with  its  mists  at  its 
foot  and  its  rainbow  on  its  brow,  as  silent  and 
still  as  if  it  were  vastly  painted  there ;  and  be- 
low the  bridge  on  the  right,  leap  the  Rapids  in 
the  narrow  gorge,  like  seas  on  a  rocky  shore. 
"  Look  on  both  sides,  now,"  he  said  to  the  chil- 
dren. "  Isabel,  you  must  see  this !  " 


Niagara  Revisited 


399 


Isabel  had  been  preparing  for  the  passage  of 
this  bridge  ever  since  she  left  Boston.  "  Never  !  " 
she  exclaimed.  She  instantly  closed  her  eyes, 
and  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief.  Thanks 
to  this  precaution  of  hers,  the  train  crossed  the 
bridge  in  perfect  safety. 


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